


Runaways

by DSBJellyDonuts



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Post-2x10; Canon Divergent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2019-08-29 00:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 55,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16733376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DSBJellyDonuts/pseuds/DSBJellyDonuts
Summary: Future Lucy and Future Wyatt arrive with a plan to get Rufus back.  But that's not all they're after, and five years is a lot of secrets to keep... especially when it becomes evident rather quickly that they're not alone in that Lifeboat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My number one question at the end of the S2 finale - after I picked my jaw up off of the floor - was, 'who else is in that Lifeboat with them?' Questions have a way of leading to plot bunnies, and no matter how many times I told the bunny to sit down and let the real writers do the writing... it kept popping back up. My intention was only to write this if we never got closure from S2, but eventually I'd puzzled out so much story in my head I had to get it on paper... and here we are.
> 
> This chapter is kinda long. I can't promise the rest will be that long. Heck, I can't promise the rest will be written. But I'd love to hear some feedback, find out if this is a bunny others are interested in chasing... and at the rate I'm going, Chapter 2 should be up rather soon.

Loss.  
  
It had been a theme of the last two years.  Before all of this started, even - her father had died, her mother was sick, and she didn’t know if she and Amy could handle much more.  
  
If only she’d known then.  
  
She’d lost Amy, but gotten her mother back in exchange; it hurt like hell to lose her best friend but at least with her mother back it hadn’t been a net zero.  Except it had turned out to be a deeper loss than she ever could have imagined; while her mother wasn’t dead, she subscribed to ideology so twisted that Lucy couldn’t even wrap her brain around it.  Worse, she chose it over her daughters, both of them - over Lucy’s happiness and over Amy’s very existence.  And she’d died in the end anyways, somehow leaving an even bigger hole than if the cancer had just taken her in the first place, than if she'd died in her original reality.  
  
And she’d lost her father - how could you lose someone you’d already lost once before?  But she’d gone from having a dead father to finding out that he wasn’t her father at all - and further, that he’d been wiped from history.  Cahill wasn’t a gain, she couldn't even count it as an exchange there, it was just loss compounding loss.  
  
Her mother, her father, her sister - all gone.  
  
And then there was her bunker family.  A gain, she supposed, in its own right; Mason and Agent Christopher like her parents, Jiya and Rufus her siblings, and Flynn - well, whatever the hell he was.  And then there was Wyatt, her... she didn’t even know.  She was far too tired, exhausted, weary, to even begin to figure it out.  
  
He’d been a gain, maybe the only straight up net gain in this whole mess, but thanks to _time travel_ , she’d lost him too.  He’d had a gain of his own, until it wasn’t - or maybe it sort of was - she really wasn’t sure, she couldn’t even begin to think about that right now.  Even his admission of love felt more like a blow than anything; after what he’d put her through with Jessica, and he had the gall to say he _loved_ her?  
  
And losing Rufus, she couldn’t even begin to handle - she’d never had a brother (sure, technically speaking she’d never had a sister either, but she’d _really_ never had a brother) but she was confident he was the brother she’d never had.  He was the third member of their team, and whatever weirdness was going on between her and Wyatt, she could count on him to be there, steady and steadfast, ready with a smile or a shoulder or a listening ear.  And now he was _gone_ and for what?  Another loss that she’d never get over.  
  
Even their successful missions had often been shrouded in loss; the loss of innocence, the loss of morals, the loss of the historical figures she'd come to regard as heroes.    
  
She wasn't sure she could take much more.  And yet, it just kept coming.  
  
And so it shouldn’t have been a surprise that when the second Lifeboat whirred in and the future versions of herself and Wyatt stepped out - because what _was_ her life?! - she couldn’t quite muster any faith that this wouldn’t rip something else away from her.  What, she didn’t know - she didn’t have much left - but it felt all too optimistic for her not to be suspicious.  And so, she wasn’t too shocked when the bomb dropped.  
  
“You guys wanna get Rufus back or what?”  
  
She stared at them, slack-jawed,  present-day Wyatt by her side.  Future her, war-torn and world-wise, and future Wyatt, who looked like he hadn’t seen a razor for the better part of a month.  They stood in the hatch of the Lifeboat - the future Lifeboat, to be exact - and held their pose, the six present-day bunker occupants staring at them in shock.    
  
But the moment was broken when a tiny, cherubic face poked around the side of his legs -  
  
“Can I see them, Daddy?”  
  
Future Wyatt deflated, visibly, as he looked down at the curly-haired tot standing to his left.  “Hey, we talked about this, remember?  You were supposed to wait inside until we told you to come out - you ruined our entrance, man!”  
  
“Sorry,” she said with a giggle.  
  
He hoisted her onto his hip - an impressive feat while standing in the hatch, no matter her opinion on anything else - while her future self looked on, amused.  Lucy watched as the trio moved down off the rings with ease, a move clearly practiced a million times.    
  
Because why wouldn’t the impossible, overwhelming glimmer of hope that was their future self selves arriving be compounded with the depth of loss of having Wyatt’s kid show up with them.  
  
So, she did the only logical thing she could do in that moment: she fled.  Down the hall to Jiya’s room - it had once been hers, too, and she wasn’t sure where else to go.  
  
As she fled, she heard Wyatt’s voice drift down the hall - future Wyatt, she presumed - as he told the room at large, “Well, we really botched that one.”  
  
And because she’d fled, she missed the affectionate hand her future self placed on the back of his shoulder, the quick ruffle of the child’s hair, the peck she placed on the top of her unruly brown curls.   All she knew is that she’d been sobbing in Rufus’s bed, fighting back bile, for less than a minute when the cropped hair version of herself sunk down on the floor next to the cot and spoke.  
  
“It’s hard to imagine having anything left to lose, isn’t it.”  
  
Lucy lifted her head to look at this woman, surprised by the uncanniness of hearing her own thoughts voiced aloud.  Her alternate self continued.  
  
“I remember this day - this _moment_ \- with astonishing clarity.  It’s been over five years, but I still remember every piece of sitting against that wall and—”.  She shook her head.  “Feels absolutely absurd in the midst of everything, doesn’t it.  How could an admission _that big_ manage to feel like another loss?”  
  
“I don't know,” Lucy whispered hoarsely, almost afraid to speak in the presence of her-but-not-her, like doing so might short-circuit the universe.  
  
“Because you don’t trust it,” her future self said, turning to look at her.  “It feels empty, hollow.  Like a mockery of everything you ever wanted, what?  Six weeks ago?  Eight?  Hard to know, time in this bunker is pretty messed up.”  
  
“Or seventy years,” Lucy admitted quietly, and her future self sent her a soft smile - the same gentle, affectionate smile she’d shown looking on to Wyatt and his kid.  
  
“Or seventy years,” she echoed.  There was silence for a moment, and then she continued on.  “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it’ll stop feeling like a loss eventually.  It’s—”.  She stopped, hesitated, as if she was afraid she’d say too much.  “Showing up then wasn’t random.  We didn’t want to disrupt what happens next, but well - it was really the best time to get started.”  
  
Lucy furrowed her brow.  
  
“Reversing the trend.  Shifting some things from the loss column over to the gains.”  She paused and thought before continuing.  “We can’t fix everything, but there’s a few things that... well, we felt like we had to try.”    
  
“Rufus.”  
  
Future Lucy nodded curtly.  “Yeah.  And you need to c’mon… we can’t get started without you.”  
  
Lucy’s brow furrowed.  “Why do you need us for this anyways?  What can two—” she glanced her doppelgänger up and down - “nonidentical copies of us do that future-us can't do alone?”  
  
Her future self gazed into the corner of the room before responding.  “It's better if you come on out - let us explain it to everyone at the same time.”  
  
“Why can't you just—”  
  
Future Lucy darkened a shade.  “I don't want to have to explain it twice.”  
  
Lucy knew herself well enough to read between the lines.  She _could_ push her future self to explain, now, here, in the relative comfort and seclusion of the bedroom.  Or she could suck it up and save her future self the apparent pain of having to tell her story twice over.  Either way was hurtful to her, it was just whether her present or future self felt the hurt.  
  
Having apparently learned nothing from the mess that came of taking the high road with Wyatt, she nodded.  
  
Her future self motioned for her to come on, and she pried herself up off of the cot.  Giving a half-hearted scrub to her red-rimmed eyes, she winced as her hand brushed over her cheek.  If this future version of herself allowed her to take out Emma, to fix everything - she was pretty sure she'd get on board with anything she had to say.  
  
They arrived into the common space to find everyone loosely draped about the room - Mason and Agent Christopher on chairs dragged in from the kitchen, Flynn standing in the corner with his arms crossed, Jiya sitting on one of the awful chairs they'd replaced the even more awful couches with a few weeks back.  Future Wyatt sat at one end of the sorry excuse for a couch, his kid tucked into his side, looking like she had lots of things to say but had been coached into silence.  Her Wyatt stood, too, off to the side of the other chair - but his posture betrayed something other than Flynn’s standoffish inquisition.  No, instead he stared at the kid, with barely hidden wide-eyed wonder, a million questions sitting behind a thin dam of propriety.  Not that she could blame him.  She would have reacted much the same if her own kid had shown up out of the blue.  
  
Guess Jessica had been telling the truth after all.  
  
Her future self took a perch on the couch, a carefully measured distance from the father-daughter pair, gesturing Lucy to the remaining chair.  As she sat, Lucy tried to discern if the distance was a genuine professional distance, or if it was far less authentic - an intentional effort to obfuscate any relationships between the trio.  She couldn't help but hope it was the latter, as she cast a poorly-concealed sideways glance at present-day Wyatt - she didn't think she could bear to live with this strain in their relationship for the next five years.  
  
Her reverie was broken when Agent Christopher spoke.  “I'm afraid I'll need to apologize for all of us.  We’ve had a rotten day—”  
  
“We know,” her future self replied.  Christopher moved to speak, but future Lucy continued on.  “We really questioned whether this was the right time to show up, but—”  She looked to Wyatt’s future counterpart, as if searching for the best words to accurately describe their rationale.  
  
“We felt like it was the best,” he said, finishing her sentence.  “We’re sorry to do this to everyone, but right now is our best chance to get Rufus back.”  
  
Future Lucy nodded curtly, as if in agreement.  
  
“So why… this grand plan to get Rufus back… why do you need us?”  
  
“And how can you be in the same place as yourselves,” Jiya asked, not yet having lost the shell-shocked look they all shared when the future Lifeboat arrived.  
  
“Let’s hold on the technical stuff,” Lucy said.  “For now, just trust us that it's possible.”  
  
From his spot on the wall, Flynn lifted a hand to command attention.  “We’ve always known it's not impossible, Lucy, haven't we.  _I told you_ , you brought me your journal.  It should have been impossible.”  
  
“Well it's not,” Future Lucy said, shooting a scowl in Flynn’s direction.  “Can we get on with this?  We don't have much time.”  
  
“Of course,” Agent Christopher replied, silencing the room at large with a look.  
  
Future Lucy spoke.  “We think we have a way to get Rufus back.  It'll take a few jumps, set the pieces in place.”  
  
Future Wyatt continued.  “We’ve already done a lot, laid a lot of the groundwork.  But—”  
  
Her Wyatt interrupted him.  “I don't get it.  Why do you need us?  Why _now_?”  
  
The future version gave him half of a smile - the kind that says there's a funny joke, but no one else in the room is getting it.  Then he tilted his head towards the little girl curled into his side.  “Because of her.  You've been on these missions, you know how dangerous and chaotic they are.  Can you imagine trying to do it with a four year old in tow?”  
  
“I'm four and a _half_ , Daddy.”  
  
Future Wyatt rolled his eyes, the small smile on his lips betraying any true annoyance.  “All right, a four _and a half_ year old.”  
  
“So why don't you just leave her with me?” Agent Christopher asked, puzzled.    
  
Future Wyatt shook his head.  “She goes.”  
  
“You really don't think it would be safer if—”  
  
“ _She goes_ ,” he repeated, an edge to his voice that left the room pin-drop silent.  
  
The future versions of Wyatt and herself locked gaze for a minute, having some sort of conversation that made her decidedly uncomfortable.  Part of her discomfort stemmed from feeling as if she was intruding on a private moment, but most of it - if she were brutally honest with herself - came from their connection, that haunting pang of what could have been.  
  
Finally her future counterpart spoke.  “We _can't_ leave her.  Not after the Brooklyn incident.”  Her voice was muted, she sounded absolutely haunted - and Lucy knew without question this is what she hadn't wanted to explain twice.    
  
Looking up and seeing six sets of puzzled eyes locked on her, her future self continued.  “It was - a couple of years ago now, I guess.  Her third birthday.  Until then we’d always left her behind, she’d be well taken care of, and it was just too risky to take her along.  But she'd been begging, and it was a quick, easy mission - hop back to the 20s, make sure Henry Wallace’s grandparents meet at a picnic.  Emma’d gone back and pulled a fuse from his grandmother’s car, but we knew from the list of jumps that she was only there a couple of hours in the middle of the night.  She'd be long gone before we got there.  All we needed to do was get her a new fuse, maybe go to the picnic - it was Brooklyn, it was spring, and for a three year old who had spent her whole life in an underground bunker, it was an amazing birthday.”  She took a deep breath before she continued, the gravity of whatever was coming next clearly weighing on her.  “And it was an amazing day - one of the best in a long, long time, if I’m being honest.  But when we got back—”  
  
She trailed off, closing her eyes, and Lucy was pretty sure she was fighting back tears.  Finally she glanced over at Future Wyatt - the expression one she knew well, pleading for him to take it where she couldn't.  
  
He didn't disappoint.  “Everyone was gone.  _Everything_ was gone.  We landed in an empty patch of grass where the bunker should have been.  We’re not even sure what we… we think maybe we messed up something with someone involved in defense, messed up their parents meeting or something, so the bunker was never built.”  
  
Agent Christopher squinted at them.  “Why didn’t you look for us somewhere else?  If it hadn’t been the bunker, it would’ve been—”  
  
“We did,” Future Lucy interrupted.  “And we found you, all of you.  Individually.”  
  
Agent Christopher drew back.  “What?”  
  
“I don’t know - _we_ don’t know what we did, but you were all scattered.  Everyone is okay, you’ve still got your family, everything stuck that we did with Flynn, Jiya’s got a great job, Mason’s still got the company… maybe there’s another time travel program that we don’t know about… I don’t know.”  
  
Wyatt shrugged.  “All we knew is that we left, and when we returned six hours later - everything was gone.”  
  
“And,” Future Lucy interjected, her haunted tone returning, “If it hadn’t been Rosie’s birthday, if we hadn’t taken her along…”  
  
Christopher finished the thought for her.  “She would have been gone, too.”  
  
Future Lucy hung her head.  “It already happened with Amy.  I can’t - it can’t happen again.”  
  
There was silence for a few moments as the group digested the story before Future Wyatt began again.  “So she goes with us.  Every jump.  Every time.  And we just… we make it work.  But to fix everything, to really fix everything, we’ve gotta go into some situations that aren’t safe for her.  Which puts us back to our original problem - how to fix all of this with a four-year-old in tow.”  
  
“I can’t imagine how that could possibly work,” Present Day Wyatt replied to his future self.  
  
The future versions of Lucy and Wyatt exchanged another glance.  “The best we can figure is that we need somebody to stay back at the Lifeboat with her, keep her out of the crossfire.  It’s not like it can be one of us - no one should go into those missions solo.”  
  
Future Lucy nodded in agreement.  “And it’s not like you can just put out an ad for a time-traveling babysitter.  Plus, we don’t exactly trust a lot of people with her.”  
  
The lightbulb went off in Lucy’s head.  “But who can you trust more than yourselves.”  
  
Her future self’s face lit up.  “Exactly.”  
  
“Wait, wait,” Wyatt said, sounding offended.  “You came back from the future to get us so that we can play _glorified babysitters_?”  
  
“No, not - not exactly.  Not at all, really.  We figured between the four of us—”  
  
Lucy interjected again.  “One can stay with her and the other three can go on missions.”  
  
“Right, exactly.”  
  
Lucy looked at Wyatt - the one from her own timeline - and raised an eyebrow, “you in?” the unspoken question.  
  
He looked back at his future counterpart.  “You said you have a way to save Rufus?”  
  
Future Lucy swallowed.  “We think so.”  
  
“Then we’re in.”  


* * *

  
  
They probably should have asked more questions.  In fact, they almost _definitely_ should have asked more questions.  After that session, the only thing she was sure of - other than the few tidbits their future selves had shared - was that the distance between the two of them was long gone.  Future Lucy may have been five years older, wiser, more war-torn - but she’d gotten no better at hiding her feelings.  
  
Still, barely ten minutes later, after their future counterparts had freshened up and Rosie had conned Mason into a snack, she and Wyatt found themselves in the launchbay with a second pair of time travelers and an inquisitive four year old.       
  
“Where we goin’ now?”  
  
Future Wyatt smiled at his daughter, and Lucy tried to stuff down the _whatever_ she felt at watching their interactions.  She wasn’t even sure she could label it, and she sure as hell didn’t have time to unpack it right now.  So she stuffed it down and smiled instead, as he knelt down to her level and explained to her - and them - where they were going.  “We thought we’d try an easy jump first, make sure everything works okay, try to find our rhythm.  We’ve got one more groundwork mission - nothing dangerous - just to make sure Henry’s parents made the move west like they were supposed to.”  
  
“We hit a little snafu getting them together - wanted to make sure we didn’t change things too much.  He needs to be in California to marry my Mom - not in Jersey where he’ll meet Irene’s granddaughter,” Future Lucy told them, as an aside.  
  
“Wait,” Lucy asked her, “I thought we were going to get Rufus back?  This sounds like Amy…”  
  
Her future counterpart smiled.  “Rufus first, Amy next.  We’ve been laying groundwork for both of them for the last couple of years and - we’re close.  Very close.  Just… not close enough to do it alone.”  
  
Future Wyatt stood up, turned to look at her.  “Which one you want?”  
  
“Think I'll take my chances on the original.  I'm still not sure I've warmed to the changes.”  
  
He rolled his eyes.  “It's _bulletproof_.”  
  
Lucy and Wyatt looked at each other, perplexed.  “We can't put five people in the Lifeboat.  Not our version.  Can yours hold more?”  
  
“Nah,” Future Lucy said, wrinkling her nose.  “That's why we’ll take two.  C’mon, Wyatt, you’re with me.”  
  
Wyatt drew back.  “You're splitting us up?”  
  
His future counterpart shrugged.  “We’ve figured out traveling to your own time and two Lifeboats in the same time, but we’re not sure about two of the same person in the same Lifeboat.  So my Lucy’ll take you, and I'll take your Lucy.”  
  
He bristled.  “She's not—”  
  
“Yeah, whatever.  You forget that I _am_ you - and I know what just happened.”  Future Wyatt turned away from his counterpart, reaching instead for the hand of the tot who was apparently accompanying them on this “non-dangerous” mission.  He lifted Rosie onto the rings and she scrambled into the ship before stepping up himself.  “C’mon Luce,” he said,  issuing an informal invitation and extending his hand.  She took it, not entirely at ease but curious nonetheless about the Lifeboat’s upgrades.  
  
On board, she took her customary seat, finding Wyatt’s former seat occupied by Rosie.  She took to fastening her belts while Future Wyatt got Rosie strapped in.  The tot was sitting on something - a repurposed couch cushion, maybe - but other than that, she seemed to ride just the same as everyone else always had.  
  
“Cushion helps the belts fit right,” Future Wyatt said, as if reading her mind.  And it was even creepier to have him do it than her own Wyatt, truth be told.  He turned around to check on her - “You got it?”  She nodded, and he continued.  “I forget about that, sometimes.  She usually does her own, now that Rosie’s with us.  It's just easier.”  
  
Lucy wasn't sure how she felt about that, but she didn't have much time to think about it.  Rosie seemed to be sizing her up as Future Wyatt took the cockpit’s seat.  “Why do you look just like my Mama?”  
  
Lucy blanched.  Rosie called her Mama?  _How_ had they ended up at a place where she and Wyatt were playing house with Jessica’s baby?  
  
Future Wyatt didn't seem to notice as he chuckled at Rosie’s question.  “We explained this before we came, Ro.  She IS your Mom, just… before you.”  As he turned away to set the coordinates on the panel, she swore she heard him mutter under his breath, “…sort of.”  
  
Rosie seemed content with that answer.  She locked eyes with Lucy, and it would have been unnerving had her little face not lit up like a Christmas tree when she heard the switches start to flip as the Lifeboat hummed to life.  “You ready?”  
  
Lucy stared at her incredulously.  “You're not scared?”  
  
“She loves it,” Wyatt said, his voice holding a humored disbelief.  “Guess that's what you get when time travel’s in your blood.”  
  
The rings began to spin and the Lifeboat lurched.  It was absolutely uncanny to see Wyatt at the controls - even Future Wyatt - and as she watched him, a wave of grief washed over her anew.  _It should have been Rufus._  


* * *

  
  
Meanwhile, Wyatt found himself following a _future_ version of Lucy into the Lifeboat.  Who, it seemed, was going to pilot it.  When had _that_ happened?  
  
Somewhere in the last five years, apparently.  
  
He settled into his seat, feeling slightly unbalanced at the sight of the empty chair across from him.  It was weird enough knowing that Lucy was in another Lifeboat, with another _him_ , weirder still that another _her_ was piloting it.  But the weirdest was when the future version of Lucy spun her chair around to face him, apparently finding this the appropriate time for a heart to heart.  
  
“Don't we, uh, need to go?”  
  
She shrugged.  “It'll take him a minute.  He's gotta get Rosie strapped in.”  
  
Wyatt opened his mouth, ready to pounce with questions - _so many questions_ -  about the little girl their future selves had appeared with.  But Future Lucy beat him to the punch, leading off with, “She loves you, you know.”  
  
Wyatt started.  “What?  Lucy?  She - she does?”  
  
Future Lucy rolled her eyes.  “Don't act so surprised.  You _know_ that to be true.”  
  
He furrowed.  “But I've hurt her so badly with my stupidity…”  
  
“Yeah.  You definitely have.  But loving someone isn't a choice, and just because she doesn't want to doesn't mean she doesn't.”  A pause and then,  “She's also not _in love_ with you, though.”  
  
He opened his mouth to reply and _felt_ more than heard the other Lifeboat jump.  “Crap, hang on,” Future Lucy said, spinning around in her chair and flipping about a million switches.  He tried to pay attention - he was apparently going to have to learn to do this someday soon - but lost track of the sequence after the first three or four.  The rings began to spin and they were off - moments later thudding to a landing in whenever they were.  Maybe it was just his adoration speaking, but he thought Lucy might actually be a better pilot than Rufus - the jump had felt a lot less jarring, anyways.  
  
He unbuckled and went to hit the hatch, but Future Lucy stopped him.  “Hold on for a second.  What I was saying before —”  
  
“She loves me, but she's not in love with me?”  
  
“Yeah.  You need to change it.  You need to remind her why she fell in love with you, why she let herself fall.  Help her remember that, let it overcome the painful sting of what loving you has become.”  A pause and then, “It won't be easy, but it's important.  She needs you to do it, more desperately than either of you know.”  Another pause - as if considering what she can or should say - gave way to, “Just… don't break her again.  You've said you love her, now you need to _choose her_.  Every time.  Nothing gets in the way.  _Nothing_.  Even if she gets pissed, even if she reminds you of the mission - nothing gets in the way.”  
  
He nodded, and she gestured for the button.    
  
“Oh, and Wyatt?”    
  
He stopped, hand hovered, and turned wordlessly back to her.    
  
“We never had this conversation.”  
  
He nodded again, hitting the button as his automatic, “Yes ma’am,” gave way to a grin from his pilot.  


* * *

  
Lucy was still thinking about the loss of Rufus when they landed, and even once the door opened, she wasn't so quick to shake her melancholy.  It wasn't until she saw Wyatt and her future counterpart that she realized a very important fact: it had worked.  They were all together, same place, same time.  
  
Whenever this was.  
  
“What year’d you say this was again?”  Wyatt asked.  
  
The part where he could practically read her mind was particularly useful in life or death situations, but in circumstances like this, it straight up freaked her out.  
  
“Fifty-three,” her future self replied.  
  
“We tried to find out from property records,” Future Wyatt added, “but they're not on any purchase deeds, so I guess they rented for quite a while.  We can't find them on either coast.  So we’re hoping we’ll find them here.”  
  
Their future counterparts turned to one another.  “So how do you wanna do this?” Future Lucy asked.  
  
“You should go with them.  She shouldn't have to deal with two of me right now.”  A pause and then, “I'll take Ro to a park or something, let her blow some steam off.  Maybe try to scrounge up some dinner.”  
  
Future Lucy gave him a Look.  “Don't do anything stupid.  We’ll be back at the bunker in a couple of hours with like eight adults that will gladly feed her.”  
  
He chuckled.  “Yeah, guess so.  We’ll just stick to the park then.”  
  
Lucy and Wyatt locked wide eyes, the incredulousness of ‘ _are we seriously balancing a life of crime with parenting decisions here_?’ hanging between them.  She waited expectantly for Wyatt to make a joke to crack the tension, but none came.  Instead her future counterpart bent to press a kiss to the child’s head, then looked her in the eye.  “You listen to your Dad, okay Rosie?  Behave yourself.  This is the 50s, little girls didn't run around like ragamuffins back then.”  
  
Rosie nodded solemnly, a sure sign that she comprehended far more than a typical preschooler should.  Then she split into a grin.  “But little girls got to go to the park!  I'll listen, promise.”  
  
Future Lucy ruffled her hair as she stood back up, then shot a stern look at Future Wyatt.  “You behave yourself, too.  I don't want to have to be bailing you guys out of anywhere.”  
  
He laughed, reaching out to grab her hand and giving it a squeeze.  “You have my word, ma’am.”  
  
So _that_ had persisted.  
  
Future Lucy gave him a decisive nod - as if she was trying to sell herself that everything would be okay - before turning back to face the present-day duo.  Future Wyatt and Rosie headed down over the hillside, and Lucy could hear a smattering of history factoids floating back to them on the breeze.  Enough to let a little kid blend in to the 50s, she guessed.  
  
Future Lucy nodded towards him.  “Results of a hell of a lot of schooling.  We were stuck in the bunker for quite a while after Rufus so… lessons for everyone.  History for him, self-defense and utilitarian skills for me - lock-picking, hotwiring cars, target practice, that kind of stuff.  We figured we needed to be able to be a little more self-sufficient in getting ourselves out of jams.”  Then she smirked.  “I still let him do most of it, though. He’s much faster.”  
  
Wyatt smirked at Lucy.  “At least I've got that going for me.”  
  
She rolled her eyes half-heartedly; it was the best humor she'd seen out of him in _days_.  At least she thought it was days; she hadn't slept in more hours than she could possibly remember.  It had been nearly a century since they’d had a normal conversation, she supposed; 1919 may feel like just yesterday but a hell of a lot had happened since then.  A _hell_ of a lot.  
  
Future Lucy led the walk down the hill as she and Wyatt trudged behind, keeping pace as they fell into an easy and familiar step.  They could just ignore his admission, she supposed; it might be easiest in light of everything.  But then she snuck a sidelong glance and him and her heart sunk as she realized there was no way it was going to be that easy.  She'd known how he’d felt about her, even without the words - or she'd thought she had - but then she'd convinced herself it was just a spark that had been snuffed out with Jessica’s arrival.  To hear him say it - she'd never expected it.  Not after everything.  And she had no idea what to _do_ with it.    
  
The sound of his voice broke her from her reverie.  “Where are we going, anyways?”  
  
Her future self replied.  “Towards town.  Just need to find a payphone, look in the phone book.  Hopefully Henry’s parents will be in there.  Then we visit the house, make sure it's them.  If so, the only thing left to do is make sure he meets Mom at UC Berkeley, if not… we go back, start again.”  
  
Wyatt furrowed his brow.  “How will you know it's them? At the house?”  
  
Future Lucy glanced back at him.  “They're my grandparents.  We used to go over there for dinner every Sunday - even after my Dad died.  They doted on me & Amy.  They'll be a lot younger, of course, but—”. She moved her focus to Lucy.  “Remember that pic of Grammy, the one that hung above Grandpa’s favorite chair?  It would have been from this time period, give or take a few years.”  
  
Lucy smiled.  “I’d forgotten about that.”  
  
The answer seemed to pacify him and they continued their march towards town.  She'd trekked through history with all kinds of people, from allies to enemies to historical figures she couldn't wrap her brain around really meeting.  But walking behind _herself_ was a singularly odd feeling.  The monotony of walking finally allowed her a chance to think, to process the situation - maybe a little too much of a chance to think and process.  She glanced at Wyatt, whose counterpart was at least out of sight at the moment.  “That's _me_ ,” she said under her breath.  
  
He looked down, kicked at a stray pebble.  “Uh huh.”  
  
“This is so weird.”  
  
“Yeah.  It is.”  A pause and then, “Hey Luce?”  
  
She paused, losing ground on her alternate self, who didn't seem to concerned about her companions’ lagging steps.  
  
He opened his mouth, as if to say something - and then thought the better of it.  “Never mind.  This isn't the time.”  
  
Lucy scoffed.  “When has poor timing ever stopped you before?”  
  
He cast a glance at her future counterpart, and she let out a soft “ah” in response.  “We can talk later, then.”  
  
Future Lucy cast a glance back at them, eyebrow raised.  “Nothing you can say I haven't already heard.”  Well, if _that_ wasn't unnerving…  
  
Wyatt scoffed.  “Well maybe I don't want you to hear it again!”  
  
Rolling her eyes, she turned to face forward and continued towards suburbia.  They were closer now, Lucy could see, as they emerged from the foothills looking over the town.  Maybe another fifteen or twenty minutes and they’d reach the neighborhood of cookie cutter houses straight ahead.    
  
As they walked, the all-too-familiar ill-at-ease washed over the pair.  Lucy’s mind drifted back, again, to their relationship - however it could be characterized.  All she knew is that they'd stood in the bunker, some weeks ago, and she'd stupidly tempted fate by declaring they had nowhere to go but down.  She'd barely gotten the words out of her mouth before Jessica’s text came in, as if the fates heard her challenge and rose to it in the most spectacular manner possible.  As she reflected on their earlier discussion, she realized that if they were to rebuild their relationship, the opposite was true - from where they stood, there was nowhere to go but up.  It was simultaneously daunting and comforting.  Because although what her future counterpart said was true - after everything, she struggled to trust in the truth of Wyatt’s confession - she also knew, deep down - _had_ known, for a very long time - that there was no bedrock more solid than that fact.  Even if he'd never admitted it, even if he'd stayed with Jessica - there was a reason that his wife had had a little bit of hurt in her eye every time she looked at Lucy, why Grace Humiston had so accurately been able to read them, why they'd been able to convincingly masquerade their way through history, from a party at the Beverly House to a living room with Bonnie & Clyde.  It had been ever so much tougher when she'd been taken for Flynn’s wife, had to playact for whomever they were deceiving.  With Wyatt, it had always felt natural - frighteningly natural, now that she looked back on it - and though she'd played it as a role, there was so much truth in some of those interactions that it almost hurt.    
  
And in the end, hurt is exactly what it had done.  She meant what she said - he _had_ screwed them up - but at the same time, she only held him culpable for parts of what had transpired.  His goal, as long as she'd known him, was to get Jessica back - and if he'd ignored that text, it would have eaten him alive forever.  They never would have had a future if it had been built on him ignoring that text.  And so she couldn't fault him from going, though she sure as hell could fault him for _not saying a damn word_.  No, she had to find out on a phone call, only to swallow her own feelings and smile when he brought her back to the bunker - greet the woman as if she hadn’t just been embarking on a relationship with her husband.  It wasn't the smartest move, she could admit, but having watched him wrestle with his grief for the better part of a year and a half, it was hard to fault him for taking whatever chance was given.  What she did fault him for, though, was keeping one foot on either side of the line, never completely relinquishing his hold on her heart, continuing to act as if he had any right to an opinion on her life.  He'd chosen Jessica - and he _should have_ chosen Jessica, in light of everything that had brought them to that moment - but he chose her while still refusing to let Lucy go.  
  
And _that_ was almost more than she could bear.  She could handle him moving on, it made him happy - or it should have made him happy, given all he’d claimed - and that's all she could possibly want for him.  But it had felt so monumentally unfair for him to continue to lay claim to her already-fragile heart - to keep picking at the scab of a wound that had barely even begun to close.  How could it, when it encountered the source of its hurt over and over again on a constant basis?  
  
Of course, if what was saying is that he'd loved her all along, then trying to push the boulder uphill with Jessica was doomed to fail.  She should be thankful, she supposed, that Jess had made it so easy on them - defaulting to the enemy’s side - making it crystal clear to Wyatt what a dumbass he had been.  And he _had_ been an idiot, make no mistake, ignoring the red flags and putting the whole team in danger.  But he had a point; if it had been Amy, after all this time, if she'd gotten Amy back and gotten another chance - she would have overlooked just about _anything_.  
  
But now that was done, laid bare for all to see, and all that was left at the bottom of the heap of rubble was the fact that he loved _her_.  Or so he said.  His actions supported the claim, his protectiveness on every mission - including and most especially the ones where Jessica was waiting on the other end - and even if she didn't _trust_ it, deep down she knew it was true.  
  
How had her future self navigated this?  Rebuilt her trust in them, as a unit, as partners - made them strong enough that she was willing to put everything aside and mother Jessica’s child?  Wondering, she quickened her pace.  Leaving a puzzled Wyatt in her shadow, she caught up to her future self.  
  
“Hey, how much am I allowed to ask you?”  
  
Future Lucy looked at her, quirked an eyebrow.  “You can _ask_ me anything you want.  I just might not be able to answer.”  
  
Lucy’s brow furrowed.  “Who decides how much you can share?”  
  
Her future counterpart looked at her, almost motherly, almost like she wanted to ruffle her hair as she'd watched her do to Rosie.  “We do.  We talked about it a lot - a _lot_ \- to figure out how much you should know, what's fair for us to keep, what would be a burden to know.  We would have probably come weeks earlier - our time, not yours - if we hadn't gotten hung up on that question.”  
  
Wyatt had caught up to them by now.  “Why tell us anything?”  
  
“There are some things that… if I’d known… might have changed some decisions.  Your path won't be the same as ours - we’ve altered it already, showing up when we did, showing up at all.  But some things won't change, and forewarned is forearmed, I guess.”  
  
“Then why not tell us everything?” Lucy asked.  
  
“Same reason,” her future counterpart replied.  “You know, you change your actions.  Sometimes it doesn't matter - like with Jiya’s visions, like with Rufus - but sometimes it makes a big difference.  And you knowing… it could alter everything.”  She paused, contemplating for a moment, before continuing.  “It's why we showed up when we did.  What you know, and when, makes a difference.  We want to fix things, go get Rufus, bring back Amy - but living life like you already know what's around the next corner is no way to live.  Ask Jiya.  It's a hard burden to bear.”  


* * *

  
_“We really need to make a decision on when we’re gonna go, Luce,” Wyatt started.  He’d just tucked Rosie into her “nest,” as she called it, her sleeping bag in the corner of the barn that they called home.  He sunk into the corner of their “couch” - a few bales of hay covered by a blanket they'd stolen from the 1940s.  “Rosie's getting older.  She deserves a normal life.  This is our best shot at getting her one.”_  
  
_Lucy nodded, slowly, contemplating.  “I think it has to be pretty much right away after we get back from 1888.”_  
  
_“We’re sure we can't go much earlier, right - back after the Rittenhouse arrests, just talk you into staying at Mason, keep your mother from kidnapping you?  Keep Rufus from dying in the first place?”_  
  
_“No,” Lucy replied.  “I need to know she's Rittenhouse.  You need closure from Jessica.  Besides,” she raised an eyebrow, “You really want to erase 1941?”_  
  
_His eyes drifted to Rosie’s nest in the corner.  “Guess not.  So right after Chinatown, huh?”  A beat and then, “Before or after I tell you I love you?”_  
  
_She sighed.  “After.  She'll be a mess, but - she's gotta know.  She needs to know that before we ask them to do what we need to do.”  A pause and then, “But before Denise drags me out to have them look at my cheek.”_  
  
_His brow furrowed.  “You don't want her to—”_  
  
_“No,” she answered quickly, cutting him off.  “It's better that way.”  Seeing his eyebrow raised, a challenge making its way to the surface, “I know you don't agree with me, but it's me, so I get to make the call on this one.”_  
  
_He pushed out an annoyed sigh.  “Fine.”  Another pause and then, “What are we gonna tell them about her?”_  
  
_“That she's yours.  That she's four.”_  
  
_He snorted.  “That's it.  That's really all you're going to tell them.  You know they're going to be dying to know —”_  
  
_“Everything.  I know.  But that's… so much.”  A beat and then, “Maybe it'll change as it goes along - or maybe they'll figure everything out - but I don't think we should tell them everything.  Right now, all they know is that Rufus is dead, Amy’s still gone, and Jessica came back but then betrayed all of them.  Oh,_ and _that she's carrying your kid.  We start there, let them draw their own conclusions.”_  
  
_He pushed out a heavy sigh.  “They'll need to know about Brooklyn.”_  
  
_“Yeah.”  She went silent at that, stared across the barn, eyes hazy and unfocused as she looked through the Lifeboat towards some invisible point in the loft.  “They'll need to know that Rosie was crazy about all of them, has missed them desperately.  That she hasn't always been raised in a tin can.  That we’ve been lost without them.”_  
  
_He nodded, silently, pensively.  And then, finally, “Do we talk to them about permanence?”_  
  
_“I think we have to.  Before the last jump, before we go - I think we have to.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I've been poking at this over the last couple of weeks, trying to sort out exactly what brought future-them to this point, it turns out there may be a bit more angst in this story than previously expected. Apparently the road to get from the Lucy & Wyatt sitting against the wall to the Lucy & Wyatt climbing out of the Lifeboat includes some heartache. Just fair warning. Also, I'd originally started planning this before the announcement of the movie and intended it as an ensemble story, and while it's definitely morphed into ship fic, I still want to resolve some of the other outstanding plot elements from the series, so a few of those may creep their way in.

The mission itself had, as predicted, been mundane.  The phone book produced only three Charles Wallaces.  They called each, then started with the voice that sounded most like Lucy’s grandfather.  Lucy & Wyatt waited on the sidewalk while Lucy’s future counterpart went up to the door, then feigned confusion.  Even from the street - and even 30 years younger than she remembered her from her childhood - Lucy could recognize her own beloved grandmother.  The baby balanced on her hip would grow up to be her Dad and - she hoped - Amy's father.  
  
“It's her,” Lucy said, turning so that Wyatt could hear even as she spoke softly.    
  
They waved as the future version of her gestured down to them - “my sister and brother-in-law” floating on the breeze as she turned - and then she listened as her grandmother rattled off directions to a nearby garage.  Lucy’s counterpart thanked her grandmother, then wandered back down the driveway to where the original time traveling duo was standing.  
  
“She said there's a garage just up the road.  I think we can limp the car there.”  She turned on her heel to head off down the street and they followed.  Future Lucy managed to hold her grin until they made it to the end of the street.  “That’s back the way it should be.”  She paused, glancing over her shoulder at the duo, before continuing.  “We think that's the last thing Emma messed up.”  
  
Lucy blinked.  “So we can save Amy?”  
  
“After Rufus, yes.”  Future Lucy paused for a minute, thinking.  “There's a reason for the order.  It's… probably a little much for you guys right now, we’ve thrown a lot at you, but we’ll explain it later.”  
  
Lucy looked to Wyatt, who shrugged, then back to her future counterpart.  “Okay,” she said with a nod.  It wasn't really okay - she had so many questions, starting with why would the order matter and wouldn't they risk messing something up with Amy by going back to get Rufus? - but in the scheme of things, okay would do.  It would have to.  
  
They were halfway up the hill towards where the Lifeboat lay when they spotted a figure ahead of them on the rise.  Future Lucy quickened her pace and the present-day duo matched it, sharing a quick glance of concern.  They needn't have worried, though, as another dozen steps revealed it to be Future Wyatt, with Rosie riding piggyback.  Future Lucy closed the gap quickly and walked up behind the duo, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to the crown of Rosie’s head.  “Did you two have a good time at the park?”  
  
Lucy watched as Future Wyatt slid the little girl to the ground, marveling again in astonishment at her future self’s ability to be so unconditionally affectionate to Jessica’s child.  The thought made her mildly nauseous, to be honest - not Rosie herself, she was utterly adorable, but the fact that Jessica hadn't been lying and she and Wyatt…  
  
She was pulled from her thoughts when Rosie ran over to Future Lucy and tugged on her pant leg.  “Guess what Mom?! I got to ride a Merry Go Round!”  
  
“Did you?” she asked, hoisting the little girl onto her hip without missing a step.  “The one in Tilden Park?”  
  
Rosie looked over at her father.  “Uh… Daddy?”  
  
“Sure was!”  
  
“That's an _old_ carousel, Ro.  Even now.  They just moved it here a few years ago, from Griffith Park in LA.”  She thought for a minute, then broke out into a grin, moving her focus from Rosie to her Wyatt.  “You know, it was in a movie, actually.  ‘So Ends Our Night,’ 1941.”  
  
He split into a grin and held back some barely constrained laughter.  “1941, huh?  And so ends _our_ night.”  He shot a look at Future Lucy over Rosie’s head, sharing a laugh with her over a joke that clearly only the two of them understood.  
  
Lucy, meanwhile, snuck a glance at her Wyatt to see if the mention of Hollywood in 1941 had affected him as much as it had her.  Judging from the expression on his face - and the way that he was staring back at her - it had.  It certainly had.  Which, she supposed, it should have, seeing as he was the one who claimed he _loved_ her and all.  But maybe that was their jumping off point: remembering how they'd felt after that mission and fighting to get back there again.  It would take a lot, she thought, but then again - sneaking another look at him as he watched the small family of three with a look of utter incredulousness on his face - it was a lot to fight _for_.  
  
She'd tuned out the rest of the conversation and found herself hoping she hadn't missed anything important as the future version of Wyatt addressed the group at large - “All right, let’s get back to 2018.”  
  
Lucy watched as Future Wyatt lifted Rosie off of her future self’s hip and into a bear hug, tickling her and causing her to let out a gleeful shriek and giggle.  He straightened her up, gave her a playful thwack on the bottom and set her on the rings as he said, “All right, babydoll, time to crawl into your seat.”  
  
As she scrambled up into the Lifeboat, Lucy stared after her, mouth slightly agape.  _That_ was the nickname he was going with?  Interestingly enough, she'd had her future self in her eyesight the whole time and she hadn't reacted in the slightest - which told her it wasn't unusual.  When - and how - had that evolved… and why did she find it ate at her, just a little, to find the nickname repurposed?  
  


* * *

  
  
_The baby was just days old when they got her back to the bunker.  There wasn't much there - Denise had scrounged up a bassinet, an old wind up swing, some blankets, a couple of packs of diapers and wipes - it would be enough to get them started.  She'd been fussy and Wyatt found himself pacing the length of the bunker, hoping the motion would lull the baby to sleep.  It had worked.  He laid the baby in the bassinet and sunk down on the couch where Lucy sat curled into the corner, watching them._  
  
_“I was never really sure if I wanted kids,” he started, sounding slightly overwhelmed.  “Maybe I was just scared that I would be no better than my father.  And then I found out about her.  I've_ always _wanted her, from the moment I knew she existed.  It was just so…”  He trailed off, quiet for a moment, contemplating.  “But now that she's here… I've realized I don't have the first clue how to take care of a baby.”_  
  
_The corners of Lucy’s mouth turned up in an almost-smile despite herself.  “You've managed just fine so far, got the sleep thing down pat.”  She sobered slightly, and then, “There were seven years between me and Amy - I remember some of it.  And I babysat, a little bit, back in high school.  Denise can help us out, too.  We’ll figure it as we go, just like we do everything else.  We've figured out time travel… this can’t be any harder.  Clueless people have been raising babies since the beginning of time.”_  
  
_“Yeah, but not… like this.”  He paused, glanced over at the babe.  “She's just so tiny, she's almost not real.  It's like she's some kind of doll or something.”_  
  
_Her gentle smile returned.  “Your very own baby doll.”_  
  
_“Nah,” he said, affection washing over his face.  “I've already got one of those.”_  
  
_She shrugged affably.  “We can share.  I don't mind.”_  
  
_He didn't reply.  Still, over the weeks and months that followed it fell into use more and more frequently.  Eventually the nickname became so natural that they weren't sure she'd respond if he called her by her given name.  (She did, of course)._  
  


* * *

  
  
Back in the Lifeboat, with Future Lucy once again at the controls, Wyatt finally let himself wander down the road he'd been fighting against since little Rosie had popped out of the Lifeboat.  He was a _father_.  Sure, he'd known that before they arrived - at least in theory - _if_ Jessica was telling the truth.  But she had to be telling the truth, the proof was right in front of him, in the form of the little girl whom it seemed was going to be their companion over the next few days.  
  
He took some comfort in watching his future self with her.  He seemed to be a good father, and the tot clearly adored him.  He saw only love and adoration in her eyes, not fear or dread - none of the things he’d felt when he'd looked at his own father.  Sure, the kid had some crazy time traveling existence, but she didn't seem bothered by it - she'd seemed to take a trip to the 50s in stride, little more than a few words from her mom to keep her in line.  
  
_Her Mom_.  He'd known Lucy was incredible, but watching how natural she was with her… stepdaughter?  After all he'd put her through - how had she stayed?  How had she agreed to raise Jess’ kid, to be a family with him?  
  
He snuck a glance at the future version of her, flipping switches and turning dials, and realized he had the ultimate source at his fingertips.  “So, Rosie…” he asked, trying to sound casual.  
  
“Can't talk about her,” she replied flatly, never breaking her routine.    
  
“Oh, come on!  You want me not to ask about my kid, about what happened, about how we - you - how you all got here?”  
  
He watched her short hair swing as she shook her head.  “You shouldn't even know about her.  We tried to figure out if we could keep her hidden from you guys somehow, but we didn't really have a choice.”  
  
“Okay, but —”  
  
She turned around to face him for a brief moment, as the other Lifeboat whirred to life.  “As hard and as bad and as strange as it sounds, try to forget about her.  Look at her as if we’re totally different people - like she's someone else's kid, not yours.  Don't get hung up on who she is, on her relationships with us, with how we parent her.  The fact that Rosie is a part of our lives doesn't mean it'll be the same in yours.”  
  
She spun back around without giving him time to respond, and by the time they landed, he wasn't sure if the nausea was from the jump or from the conversation.  
  
Making his way down the steps, both conversations with his future beloved weighed heavy on his mind.  It was one thing to be told to forget about his future kid, but a whole other thing to be confronted with her right in front of his face.  Especially when he looked across to see her busy chatting up Lucy in the present - “And there was horses and a tiger and a dog and—” she went running across the bunker, grabbing onto Jiya’s hand — “Aunt Jiya, there was a dragon!”  
  
He tore himself away from the startled look on Jiya’s face - and Future Lucy’s quick intervention, gently grasping Rosie by the shoulders and steering her away with a brief apology. “Sorry, its just that - you were her favorite - she doesn't quite understand that you don't all know her like she thinks she knows you.”  Moving his focus back to Lucy - his timeline’s Lucy (“his Lucy” was just too presumptuous, given everything) - he didn't miss the way she stared after the little girl, an unreadable expression on her face.  Choose her, the other Lucy had said - but how did he make it more clear that he was doing just that than to tell her he loved her?  That had gone over like a lead balloon - or maybe a flaming hydrogen one, he thought wryly, thinking back to the Hindenburg.  Back when he’d been so messed up in grief and guilt about Jessica that he’d risked the whole mission just to save a girl who merely looked like her… and he wondered why Lucy might not trust that his feelings had changed?  
  
That combination of grief and guilt had made him blinded to what was right in front of his face for far too long, and he was only sorry that it had taken the slap in the face that Jessica was freaking _Rittenhouse_ for him to realize the error of his ways.  Because even when Jess had been around, he’d had to work far too hard to stay focused on her, to keep his mind off of a certain coworker who had been so very close to being so much more.  He should have paid attention to those feelings far sooner than he did.  It would have saved them all immeasurable heartache.  
  
Looking across the bunker again, he saw their literal future selves talking - about what, he wasn’t sure, didn’t seem like anything serious - and reminded himself that there was the potential to get there again.  Their future selves appeared to be making some sort of rudimentary effort towards leaving the status of their current relationship a mystery, and maybe - maybe - it had worked on the others in the bunker.  But then again, the others had always seen what was right in front of his eyes - that he’d been in love with Lucy for a long, long time.  Longer than he wanted to admit to himself, maybe even now, and almost certainly longer than she’d realized it.  So although their future selves took care to sit two feet apart on the couch and avoid saying anything to outright imply they were in a relationship, they still shared far more than they realized. It was telegraphed by their body language, by the way future her looked at future him - like his own Lucy used to - and their subtle gestures - a brush to the elbow, a hand ghosting across his shoulder, the kind of stuff that had led people to assume they were a couple all throughout history.  If only he’d been able to let go of his preoccupation with his dead wife.  
  
It struck him, suddenly, what needed to be the first step in choosing her - showing that he was ready to let go, that he was done, that it was time to move on.  And, fortuitously - for once - he had at his fingertips just what he needed to do it.  
  


* * *

  
  
Lucy, upon boarding the Lifeboat, had found herself again opposite a precocious 4 year old.  She wasn't quite sure what to say to her, but once they were buckled in and Future Wyatt had taken the pilot’s seat, it seemed less awkward to converse than just stare.  “Did you like the Merry Go Round?” she asked, and Rosie grinned.  
  
“Uh huh!”  
  
The Lifeboat whirred and even as Lucy grasped her own harness, Rosie’s grin broadened as she tossed her arms in the air.  It really was the most uncanny thing, this little girl’s love for the sensation of flying through space and time in a manner that Lucy could only describe as feeling _not quite right_.  But the process that had elicited seasickness out of every adult who had ridden in the Lifeboat brought out only pure, unadulterated glee in this child - and her reaction couldn't help but make Lucy smile despite her emotional uncertainty.  Once they landed - and Lucy gave it a moment for her stomach to stop churning - she continued her line of questioning.  “What was your favorite part?”  
  
Rosie screwed up her nose in concentration as she thought, looking for all the world like her father, and Lucy shoved down a pang of wistfulness.  “I got to go all by myself.  Daddy helped me get on the horse, and off the horse, so I wouldn't fall - but he let me ride by myself like a big girl.”    
  
By now Future Wyatt had unbuckled himself and moved to undo Rosie’s harness.  Lucy could see him biting back a smile, but he didn't interrupt the conversation, and Rosie continued talking about her adventure as they disembarked the lifeboat.  “There was benches you could sit on on the Merry Go Round.  And there was horses and a tiger and a dog and—”  Rosie paused, spying Jiya, and her eyes lit up as she flew across the bunker  — “Aunt Jiya, there was a dragon!”  
  
She watched her future self as she guided Rosie away from Jiya with an apology and then as Future Wyatt approached her - reaching out as if to snake an arm around her waist but snatching his arm back before they made contact.  She wondered if they realized how obvious they were - and whether they were truly making an effort to conceal their future relationship or if they were just trying to shield her from having to stand by as an observer to the relationship she'd desperately wanted in her own not too distant past.  
  
She also wondered how they had managed to get there.  
  
Future Lucy broke from the conversation and headed into the common area, where Rosie had darted minutes earlier.  Lucy followed her - looking for what, she wasn't sure, but it wasn't like there were many options for lounging spaces.  
  
She curled into the corner of the couch, watching as her future self moved about the kitchen in a way that bespoke her prior knowledge of the space.  Rosie was seated expectantly at the table, watching as Future Lucy found some cheese and a couple of cookies.  “Just a snack, okay?  We’ll have dinner in a little bit, so nothing else until then.”  
  
Rosie nodded and her future self rounded the couch, mirroring her posture in the opposite corner - where she could easily chat with Lucy and monitor Rosie at the same time.  She sent a soft smile at Lucy, almost apologetic within its fondness.  “It's been a lot, huh.”  
  
Lucy snorted.  “You could say that.”  She cast a glance over at Rosie, merrily stacking up cheese cubes - paying no attention to the women on the couch.  Looking back at her counterpart, she asked the question that had been chewing at her since their arrival.  “How did you get here?”  Future Lucy’s brow furrowed and she opened her mouth as if to answer, but Lucy cut her off.  “Not, here-here, like here in the bunker, but… here.  With your life.  Emotionally, I guess.”  
  
The benefit of talking with one’s future self is that it’s easy to be understood even when the question posed is unclear.  And so Lucy knew without question that her future self understood what she was asking, about forgiveness and trust and rebuilding what had been so hopelessly shattered over the last weeks, all without Lucy having to articulate the million questions that were contained inside the one she’d actually managed to spit out.  
  
“Time,” she replied.  “Which sounds ironic given what we do, but it's really the only way to move through this.  Giving it time and being willing to let him earn your trust.  You can close off from it - I very nearly did - but I would ask yourself if that's what you really want.”  
  
Lucy couldn't help but crack a smile.  “Okay, self, is this what I really want?”  
  
Future Lucy shook her head.  “Stepped right into that one.”  A beat and then, “The three of you talked, a very long time ago, about fate and choices.  Us showing up, here, now, like this - it doesn't have to be your destiny.  This timeline splintered off the moment we appeared in it; we didn't appear in our own version of that moment, which means nothing going forward will be the same.  Maybe you'll still be fighting side-by-side with him in five years.  Maybe you won't.  Maybe Rosie will be in your life.  Maybe she won't.  Maybe you'll spend your existence as nomads, clawing for the tiniest bits of normalcy - or maybe you'll win this war and live a quiet life in the suburbs where your biggest worries are picking the right preschool and making it home from work early enough to get some dinner in everybody before you rush off to soccer practice.  I can't tell you what your life will look like - and even if I could, I wouldn't.  The only thing I can tell you is that you're the only person who gets to decide who stands beside you in whatever life you live.”  
  
She'd like to blithely say she couldn't see it being with anyone else.  Because she couldn't, really, not now - not even after everything.  The picture of her future had changed to include him some time ago - she wasn't sure how long, even - but long enough that she'd turned her life into a suicide mission when she'd thought he was gone, him and Rufus.  But she also struggled to see her future _with_ him, now, after everything - which was precisely why she sat here, mired in uncertainty, sharing a couch with the one person who had walked the path before her.  
  
Deep in conversation, they ignored Mason coming into the kitchen, settling at the table with Rosie, grabbing some more cheese cubes and some toothpicks and suggesting they build a house; ignored Rosie charming Mason by asking him to explain “mo-lecaler” bonds instead.  Lucy vaguely heard her attempting to con Mason into into giving him a couple of cookies before she started to reply to her future self.  She’d opened her mouth to speak when her future counterpart raised a finger, asking her to hold while her attention was elsewhere.  Looking over the back of the couch, she fixed a stern look on Rosie.  
  
“Rosalie Amy Logan, what did I tell you?  No more cookies before dinner!”  
  
Rosie pouted and Future Lucy stared her down.  Mason attempted to advocate on her behalf - “Come on, Lucy, it's just a cookie, won’t hurt her a bit,” only to be overridden.  
  
“Mason, she’s four.  You can't give in to her every whim.”  
  
The exchange gave Lucy a chance to regain her footing.  Rosie was named after _Amy_?  How did that happen?  She wondered, briefly, if it were Jessica’s doing - or maybe Emma’s suggestion, just to twist the knife a little bit further.  That was probably it, she decided, Emma suggesting it to Jessica as a way to serve as a perpetual middle finger to Lucy, ensure that one more thing about the child served as a stinging reminder of all that she'd lost.  
  
It didn’t seem it had worked, she thought, watching her future self give the tot a look that was loving, stern - couldn’t be labeled as anything other than motherly.  As Rosie approached the couch with a pout, she grappled with the question again - where did that forgiveness come from?  Not that she thought she’d hold anything against a kid - she didn’t now, in the present, it certainly wasn’t Rosie’s fault she’d been born into the middle of a messy, war-torn, time-traveling love triangle.  She could easily see herself helping Wyatt rescue her from Rittenhouse, make sure she was raised away from that influence, away from all of that madness.  And if there was a baby around the bunker, of course she’d help to take care of it, figured they’d likely all end up sharing that responsibility in some way.  But… why wasn't she the “Aunt Lucy” to Jiya’s “Aunt Jiya”?  She could still help him raise his kid without being her mother, which - watching the still-pouting Rosie get folded into her future-self’s arms - was definitely her role in this child’s life.  That was an olive branch far further than she could possibly imagine right now, when she was still struggling to get past his gall in choosing that moment to claim he loved her.  
  
Speaking of --  
  
“Hey, do you know if—“  Wyatt said, walking into the living room and spying the two Lucys on the couch.  “Oh, sorry.  I didn’t mean to—“  
  
“It’s fine, we were just talking,” Future Lucy replied, giving her present-day counterpart the opportunity to move her focus back to the conversation.  “Do we know if what?”  
  
“Do you know if, uh, we can mail stuff from this place?” he asked, looking slightly uncomfortable.  
  
“Mail?  Why would you need to mail something?” Lucy asked him, puzzled.  
  
He held up a thick Manila envelope.  “Divorce papers.  Jessica had them already signed when I went and found her that night, and I, uh...”  He trailed off, shifting foot to foot.  “Should have done it then, when she asked me, instead of bringing her back here and messing everything up — with you, with Rufus...”  
  
“Rufus wasn't your fault,” Lucy said, again, the same message she'd given him hours earlier.  She reached over the couch to where he stood, put a comforting hand on his arm.  “And you shouldn't have signed those papers then, either.  It would have eaten you alive if you hadn’t tried, if you hadn’t seen if maybe there was a chance...”  
  
He cut her off.  “I shouldn’t have needed there to be a chance.  I should have seen that what I really needed was already right in front of me.”  
  
She stared back at him, astonished, then looked to her future counterpart as if to say, “Did I really just hear him say that?”  Her future self shrugged and she looked back to Wyatt, but the moment was gone.  
  
“Anyways, I’m gonna go find Agent Christopher.  I bet she can get these out for me.”  He locked eyes with her future self, who sent him a small smile in return, then nodded decisively before turning and going back the way he came.  
  
What was _that_ about?  
  


* * *

  
  
Heading into the launch bay, Wyatt found his future self and Agent Christopher standing near the Lifeboats, talking.  He wandered over to hear, “Look, I wish I could give you a better answer.  You can tell them the truth, that we came to save the life of our pilot, or you can tell them that we came and kidnapped the two remaining team members - I don’t care.  But we’re not gonna sit around and wait for you to hash out approval.”  He paused, thought, and then continued.  “They already know we’re working with time travel here.  Having us come from the future doesn’t seem like that much of a stretch.”  
  
Flynn, hanging back at the edge of the conversation, interjected.  “For once, I agree with him.”  
  
Future Wyatt chuckled.  “Appreciate the vote of confidence.”  
  
Present day Wyatt approached the group.  “C’mon, Agent Christopher, it’s not like we haven’t taken things into our own hands before.  And if it’s to save Rufus—”  
  
“I can get you clearance.  If - you can just give me a day or two to go through the proper channels.  I was able to take care of the last mission based on my agreement with Lucy to get her sister back, but if you just start hopping madly around —”  
  
Future Wyatt sighed.  “We’re leaving in the morning.  Clearance or no.”  
  
She met his gaze with a hardened one of her own.  “Like hell you will.”  
  
“No offense, ma’am, but we don’t work for you anymore.  You might be able to talk to them like that,” he nodded towards Wyatt and Flynn, “but Lucy and I are free agents.  We’re here to get our pilot back, and we’ll do it with or without your approval.”  
  
Agent Christopher grumbled, but opted not to engage him any further.  Meanwhile, Flynn looked at Wyatt.  “Glad to see you’ve grown up and matured so much.”  
  
He ignored Flynn’s needling, turning instead to Agent Christopher.  “I need you to mail this for me.”  
  
She pursed her lips.  “Wyatt, I can’t—”  
  
“Please.  It’s my divorce papers.”  
  
The silence that followed was broken only by Flynn’s snort, his derisive laugh.  “That seems too little, too late, doesn’t it?”  
  
Wyatt wheeled on him.  “Look, I didn’t ask your opinion.”  
  
“And I didn’t ask your permission to share it!”  Flynn stepped forward - as if to start something - and Agent Christopher stepped between the two men.  
  
“Guys, guys,” she said, “Come on.  Let’s not do this.”  
  
They simmered down, but the rising commotion had already drawn Lucy from the common area, Future Lucy not far behind her.    
  
“Everything okay in here?”  
  
“Just peachy.”  Wyatt’s tone betrayed his words, but then again - it was a particularly transparent one, reserved for interactions with Flynn - or pretty much any other time he was trying to reign in his temper.  
  
Agent Christopher let out a beleaguered sigh as she reached out for the manila envelope.  “I’ll see what I can do about getting this sent out.”  Wyatt nodded his thank you as Christopher stepped away.  She made it as far as Lucy, then stopped.  “Your eye looks truly terrible, Lucy.  Maybe we should take you to get it x-rayed, make sure it's not broken.”  
  
“Don't bother,” Future Lucy said flatly.  “It's not.  I went and got it checked out.  Total waste of time.”  
  
Agent Christopher’s brow furrowed.  “I’m sure it won't hurt to—”  
  
“Won’t help, either.  Just hours in an emergency room, worries about getting caught, loads of ‘home safety’ questions as they assume she's a battered spouse.  It’s not like she can tell the truth.  It’d be annoying at best, risky at worse.”  
  
Lucy looked from Agent Christopher, clearly concerned, to her future self, who seemed to feel strongly about this, given the set of her jaw line - and ultimately had to go with the one who had been there before.  “If she says it’s not broken,” Lucy said, “then I don’t need to go.  She’s right.  Leaving the bunker… it’s always risky.  This is just a bruise.  It’ll heal.”  
  
Agent Christopher shrugged.  “Let me know if you change your mind.”  As Lucy nodded in agreement, she swore she saw relief cross her future self’s face.  What that was about, she didn’t know - and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how much of an audience I have left for this but I feel firmly about finishing what I start (even if it takes years, since I'm the world's slowest writer!), so.
> 
> This chapter had a mind of its own. I had a start, and I had an end point , and I started filling it in and as I approached 11k I decided to split it. I kept writing and as I approached 9k on the first "half" I opted to split it again, since the first part was pretty much finished and that way I could get it to you sooner... So out of curiosity, I'm interested to know what the preference is - shorter, more frequent chapters, or longer, more periodic updates?
> 
> And, lastly, this is (obviously) now canon-divergent post-2x10. So remember: Chinatown yes, Futures arrival yes, Futures actually having a conversation (and ensuing events of 211/212) no.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> -DSB

One by one the bunker’s occupants had turned in.  It had been decided by default that the future family would take the common space; Lucy didn't mind, but it did leave her rather homeless.  There were a couple of free beds in the bunker now, but it felt all sorts of wrong to take Rufus’ - and she sure as hell wasn’t bunking with Wyatt in Jessica’s stead.  As exhausted as she felt, she wasn't sure how much difference it would make - she'd probably be able to sleep anywhere she could find to close her eyes.  So she scrounged up an extra pillow and blanket and leaned back in one of the chairs in the launch bay - not ideal, but propping her feet up on the next chair over made it less than horrible.  However, despite her exhaustion, she drifted in and out of sleep, finding it was proving difficult to separate dream from reality.    
  
The clock said 3:06 when she finally gave up the ghost; the soft voices and the glow of the tv coming from the common space told her she wasn't the only one awake.  Padding down the hall, she noted her & Wyatt’s future counterparts curled up in opposite corners of the couch - though she didn't miss their legs intertwined in the center.  Rosie sat cross-legged on the floor, her dark curls illuminated by the soft glow of the tv, enraptured by _The Land Before Time_.  
  
“Haven't seen that in years,” Lucy said, their future selves looking up as she came around the corner.  
  
“She has a thing about dinosaurs,” her future self said with a shrug.  “We just kinda roll with it.  Never really did the princess thing, she's grown up on a steady diet of math, science & history - so I guess this is what we get.”  
  
“Yeah, never thought I'd hear a little kid asking about molecular bonds.”  
  
Future Lucy chuckled.  “When we brought her back here, Mason had no idea what to do with a baby.  Nuclear physics became his version of a bedtime story.”  She offered a small, sad smile.  “She’s missed him so badly.  Everyone, really.”  
  
Lucy smiled tightly, pushing down the myriad of emotions that threatened her composure.  “I can't believe you guys are still up.  It's three in the morning.”  
  
“Not for us… it was first thing in the morning when we showed up here.”  A pause and then, “Insomnia’s really bad, huh.”  
  
“Hard to sleep when you don't have a bed,” Lucy said with a chuckle.  
  
“Or with all that's gone on.  I remember this particular sleepless night well,” her future self replied, eyes flicking to the kitchen table, then to her Wyatt before moving back to Lucy.

 

* * *

 

_The bunker was finally silent, Agent Christopher having headed home, everyone having turned in from their day.  She could probably sleep in with Jiya, but it would be in Rufus’ bed and that somehow just felt wrong.  So she sat at the kitchen table, the dim counter lights illuminating the space, holding the papers the hospital had given her.  She alternated between staring at them and staring at the wall… as if maybe they'd somehow magically change._  
  
_After some indeterminable amount of time she heard soft footsteps approaching the table.  She didn't have to look up to know that it was him._  
  
_“Hey,” he greeted her, taking a seat._  
  
_She grunted in return._  
  
_Even without looking, she could feel him look to the papers on the table, his brow furrowing.  “What's this?  They give you care info for your cheek?”_  
  
_She glanced up at him.  “No.”  Shoving the papers his direction, she continued.  “We have a problem.”_

 

* * *

  
  
“It'll get better eventually,” Future Lucy said blithely.  “The sleepless nights.”    
  
_Eventually_ , Lucy figured, meant somewhere between a week and five years.  
  
“In the meantime I guess I oughta make the best of them.”  She paused for a minute, considering.  “Rufus in the morning, right?  What do we need before we go?”  
  
Her future counterpart glanced across the couch at Future Wyatt.  “Just us, I guess - the four of us and Rosie.”  
  
Lucy nodded, feeling as if a trip this momentous should take some prep work.  “No supplies or anything?”  
  
“Not on our end.  Everything we need’s in the Lifeboat.  We’re ready to go whenever.”  
  
Lucy frowned.  “Whenever?”  
  
Lucy’s future counterpart looked across at Future Wyatt, seeming to defer the decision to him.  He nodded.  “Yeah.  Soon’s everything charged.  Which —”   —he craned his head to glance at the clock — “Should be about done.  We got back around 11?” he asked, looking to his Lucy to confirmation.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Lucy nodded contemplatively.  “So whenever we get up.”  
  
“Or now,” Future Wyatt replied.  “It’d be better if we were rested, but it’s not like anyone’s sleeping anyways.”  
  
Lucy snorted.  “Do we ever?”  
  
“Eventually, yeah,” Future Lucy said, a soft smile towards her younger counterpart accompanying her repetition from earlier.  “But maybe not tonight.”  
  
Lucy ticked her eyes towards the little girl on the floor.  “What about her?”  
  
“What do you mean, what about her?” her future counterpart replied, amusement in her eyes.  
  
“Doesn't she have a bedtime of some sort?  Do we need to wait until—”  
  
Future Wyatt looked back at Lucy, made a face.  “She can crash on the floor of the Lifeboat, not a big deal.”  A pause, a glance at Future Lucy, and then, “She pretty much sleeps when she’s tired, wherever we are.  Kinda like she eats when she's hungry.  Time travel and schedules don't go well together.”  He paused, shifting before continuing.  “But I know that look—” he said, nodding towards the little girl staring at the tv with a glazed-over expression, “She’ll need to go to bed soon or she'll be a terror.”  
  
Lucy snorted.  “That's hard to picture.”  
  
“Yeah well… she may have a slightly unconventional life, but she's still four, and meltdowns are a thing.”  He paused and then, “So we either need to go now, she can nap in the Lifeboat, or we need to get her to bed and go in the morning.”  
  
“I vote now.”  
  
Lucy turned.  She wasn't sure when Wyatt had appeared behind her - or how much he heard - but she knew that tone of voice.  Apparently, he had strong feelings on the matter.  
  
“You heard Agent Christopher earlier.  Waiting on clearance or whatever - that’s crap.  I’m not waiting on anything if it makes the difference in getting Rufus back.”  A pause and then, “We go now, we deal with the paperwork later - with Rufus.”  A beat as he broke into a wry smile and continued.  “Besides - we’re successful, she won't even remember that she didn't authorize the mission.”  
  
He had a point.  She looked from him to their future counterparts, who exchanged a quick glance and merely shrugged.  “Whatever you guys want to do is fine,” Future Wyatt replied.  
  
“Then let's go, I guess,” Lucy said, pausing.  “Where?  When?”  
  
“We think we’ve got a shot if we go to 1886, convince Jiya to come home with us.  She's not there in 1888, the shootout in Chinatown never happens.”  A beat and then, “We think.”  
  
“You _think_?”  Wyatt looked skeptical, as if he wasn't sure _think_ was good enough to motivate the jump.  
  
A shrug from Future Wyatt and then, “Time travel’s not exactly predictable.  Especially when trying to manipulate the timeline.”  A beat and then, “You should know that better than anyone.”  
  
_Ouch_.  Lucy glanced at her Wyatt, the hurt fleeting across his face and disappearing as fast as it had come.  Nothing he hadn't thought about himself a million times, she was sure - his future self knowing exactly where to strike in order to get the reaction he wanted.  She hurt for him, wanted to reach out - but she knew, looking across the way at him, that the shell had hardened and he'd slipped back into mission mode already.  
  
“Worth a shot, I guess.”  
  
Their future counterparts nodded decisively, then stood from the couch.  “C’mon Ro,” Future Wyatt started, “We gotta go now.  You can catch up with the adventures of Littlefoot another time.”  
  
The girl’s lip stuck out in a pout and Lucy thought briefly that she might get to see one of those meltdowns Wyatt’s future counterpart had talked about.  They were saved, though, by an offer of a cookie for the road - by Future Lucy, who was apparently more of a pushover than she seemed.  
  
“Wyatt’s right,” she said confidentially to Lucy as they walked towards the Lifeboats, Rosie sitting on her hip, happily munching on the promised cookie.  “Her meltdowns are epic.  Not surprising, given her dad, I guess,” she said, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her lips.  “Don't happen often, but when she gets overtired - watch out.”  
  
It was an odd piece of advice, Lucy felt, and she puzzled over it as she watched Future Wyatt buckle the girl in.  Before moving to the pilot’s chair, she watched him fish in a storage compartment they’d apparently built into the side of the lifeboat in search of a baby wipe, intent on cleaning the smears of chocolate off of Rosie’s face.  
  
“Nobody ever told this kid it's best to jump on an empty stomach.  We can't quite figure out if the nausea comes with age, or she's somehow immune from starting so young.  We find it kinda endearing but well - I guess we would.”  
  
The jump was just like the last two, Rosie relishing in the wildness of it, all smiles and giggles.  Despite the peculiarity of it all, Lucy couldn’t help but share in the endearment expressed by Future Wyatt - it was pretty hard not to be drawn in by pure joy on the face of a small child.  Even one who presented her with as much emotional baggage as Rosie did.  
  
Upon landing, she unbuckled and disembarked the Lifeboat, taking a deep breath and pushing it out through her nose in an attempt to quell her own nausea along the way.  As she looked back, she was surprised to see Future Wyatt waving her on while he drug out what must have been Rosie’s sleeping setup from yet another storage bin.  Looking around, she realized there were a few more panels and latches than their own Lifeboat had - made sense, given the comments that everything they needed was on board.  “Stand over here, babydoll,” he addressed the tot.  She waited to the side of the pilot’s chair as he drug the cushion from her chair to the floor and covered it with a sheet, a fluffy blanket tossed onto Lucy’s normal seat.    
  
Rosie, meanwhile, stood surveying the buttons and switches of the pilot’s station, her eyes bright with wonder.  Future Wyatt called her over, and as she crawled onto her pallet, the girl looked up at her father.  “You’ll teach me how to fly it, Daddy?”  
  
“When you get bigger, sweet girl,” he said, bending to brush a kiss to her forehead.  “Me or your Mom.”  He followed with a stage whisper, getting a giggle out of the girl - “She's a better teacher than me - you know that.”  
  
The confirmation seemed to pacify Rosie and Future Wyatt ducked and swung a leg out of the Lifeboat.  “Someone’ll be back in a minute for a story.  We just gotta figure out a game plan real quick.”  
  
“K,” she replied amicably, flashing him a sleepy smile.  “Love you.”  
  
Lucy tore her eyes away before she could be spotted.  Her heart ached; the small scene between father and daughter had dredged up everything she'd been struggling to smash down for the past few weeks, the unfairness of it all.  She glanced back up as Future Wyatt’s boots landed on the ground with a muffled thud, only to find Future Lucy looking at her intently.  She couldn't quite read her future counterpart’s expression, a mix of concern and realization and pity, maybe, and something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.  
  
The moment was broken when Future Wyatt spoke.  “You guys ready to trek down to get Jiya?”  
  
Her Wyatt narrowed his eyes, looking at his future counterpart with suspicion in his eyes.  “ _We’re_ going?”  
  
“Yeah.  We’re gonna stay here with Rosie.  You guys head into town, talk to Jiya.  It’ll be enough of a shock to her to see you guys - she doesn’t need to add future us to her list of worries.  You looking like she remembers is much better.”  
  
Wyatt nodded slowly, absorbing his counterpart’s point.  It seemed he didn't find a reason to object, instead looking over at Lucy.  “You okay with this?”  
  
Walking alone with Wyatt, going on mission just the two of them?  Sure, yeah, totally fine.  “Yep,” she lied, glancing over at her future counterpart, checking for any reasons for concern.  
  
She found none.  So instead she stood by as the Wyatts talked - that would never not be weird - and formulated a brief, simple plan.  Talk to Jiya.  Convince her that leaving now was their best chance to prevent Rufus’ death - two years in her future and two days in their past.  Bring her back, somehow explaining about their visitors from the future along the way.  And then - hopefully - they would be greeted by Rufus upon their return to 2018.  With that settled, they set off towards the city - and Lucy could only hope this worked the first time through.

 

* * *

  
  
“It was stupid to try to force myself to still be in love with her.”  
  
Lucy sat next to Wyatt on the ground against the building across from the Bison Horn Saloon.  They’d been sitting for twenty, thirty minutes in silence; there was absolutely nothing she had to say to him, and far too much, all at the same time.  So, out of fear of saying just the wrong thing, she’d said nothing at all.  She’d watched as he found a small stick, busied himself with worrying a groove into the ground - left her wondering if it was a habit from working detail on one of his deployments.  Finally, he’d broken the silence - without preamble, without meeting her gaze - just a musing aimed at the groove he’d idly dug in the ground between them.  
  
_He'd been trying to force himself to be in love with Jessica?_  
  
She looked over at him, steady, distrusting.  “You’ve been hung up on her since the day we met.  She’s been the ghost in the room, between us - always.”  
  
He shook his head.  “Not always.  Lucy, you need to know that.  After I went to 1983…”  He looked to his right, met her gaze.  “I was ready to let her go then.  Honestly, I was probably ready to let her before go then, but I felt like it was only fair to her to at least try…”  He trailed off, musing.  “Those six weeks, when you were with your mother, and the weeks after - Hollywood - her ghost was gone then.  There was nobody in that room but you and me.”  
  
She felt his eyes on her, but she’d looked away - couldn’t look back at him, couldn’t let him see the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks.  She’d needed to hear that, so badly, for so long now - that it hadn’t been nothing.  But this wasn’t the time, the place - it never was for them, it seemed - and so she steadfastly kept her gaze to the ground.    
  
He seemed to know he’d gotten through, though - probably some subtle shift in her posture that he picked up on, even if she wasn’t aware of it - and he continued on.  “Before that, though… even when we first met… I was hung up on the _idea_ of her.  That if I hadn’t been an ass, she’d still be here, we’d still be happy.  But —”  His breath caught, but he pushed forward, continuing, “We hadn’t been happy for a while.  Before she died.  And when she came back, I was so hung up on the idea that we _should_ be happy that I thought if I just tried - if I just told myself I still loved her, was supposed to be with her, ignored that little voice that told me how _wrong_ it was, that I could make it right again.  That I could somehow escape the pull that kept drawing me right back to you.”  He shook his head again and looked back over at her.  “I’m sorry, Lucy.”  
  
Her breath caught - somehow the apology shook her more than the ‘I love you’, meant more - she felt it deeper.  “For what?” she asked, as she met his gaze.  She had to know.  
  
“Everything?”  A beat and then, “For bringing her back to the bunker, for throwing it in your face - for not telling you I was going in the first place.  For being so stupid and blind and reckless that I destroyed _everything_.”  He sounded haunted.  “I hate that it’s gotten to the point that you don’t talk to me, that you don’t trust me anymore.  I hate that I did that to you - to us.”  
  
She shook her head slowly, sadly - taking a few moments to breathe in and out slowly, trying to figure out how to accurately portray her feelings.  “The funny thing is that I trust you with my life.  Always have.  Even in the deepest, darkest part of this… I’ve known that if something happened you’d sooner die than let me get hurt.  And —” she took a breath, held it for a moment, let it spool out— “I know that you love me.  I trust it’s true.  It’s just that I don’t trust what that means anymore.”  
  
“I'm sorry,” he whispered again, sounding broken, and she felt her heart twist in her chest, wondering if she'd pushed a bit too far.  But no - it needed to be said, if she wanted any sort of a future with him, to clear the air, to clear the roadblocks and leave nothing ahead but the open road.  She was tired of bottling it up, tired of taking the high road, tired of putting everyone else's needs before her own.  She was just _tired_.  
  
“I don't want to be your consolation prize,” she started, and he opened his mouth to rebut but she carried on.  “Your backup plan.  You wanted Jessica but you couldn't save her, so I'd do; then she was back and I was only good enough again once you knew she was Rittenhouse.”  
  
“You were _never_ my consolation prize,” he started.  “You were my first choice, always.  Honestly, Luce” — she cringed at the term of endearment — “She felt like an albatross around my neck a lot of the time.  Like I was duty-bound to show her affection; like I’d spent all of this time grieving her and I owed it to her to make it right.”  He paused, scratching at the back of his neck, as if buying time to think before continuing.  “But honestly, I’d moved on - _you_ helped me move on, to crawl out of the hell hole of grief and guilt that I’d wallowed in for five years.  Her coming back… it was like being drug right back there, into that person that I never wanted to be again, but I had no idea how to escape it.  Not without you.”  He looked down at the dirt, shaking his head.  “I never felt like you could be a choice, Lucy - every time we talked, you pushed me back to Jess.  I didn’t know what to do.”  A pause and then, “She told me she tried to leave, after Kennedy, but you talked her into staying, told her all I’d done to try to get her back.  Why would you do that, Lucy?  Why?”    
  
His pleas didn’t sound angry - more baffled, more hurt.  She couldn’t help but smirk - a taste of his own medicine - at the irony of her answer, her true, honest answer.  She debated holding back, but after all that he’d said - her Wyatt, so terrible with words, stringing so many together in an attempt to atone for what he’d done - she felt she at least owed him honesty.  “Because when you love someone, all you want is for them to be happy.  All I could ever want for you is your happiness, Wyatt.  Even if that meant not being with me.”  
  
He looked at her, astonished for a moment, before finding his voice - barely a whisper.  “It was.  It _is_.  But it felt like it was already done, this was the right thing to do, to go back to my wife - how could I choose you when I didn’t feel like I even had a choice?”  
  
Lucy snorted, shaking her head.  “You _did_ make a choice.  Walking out in the middle of our discussion, without so much as a word?  That's a choice.  Bringing her back to the bunker?  A choice.”  A pause and then, “I'd known you for a year and a half, Wyatt, and she was all you ever wanted.  I only ever became your choice once you'd fully accepted that you couldn't get her back.  I knew that, and I fell for you anyways.  That's on me.  But choosing to go to her without so much of a word… after what we were - after what I _thought_ we were - that's on you.”  
  
He shook his head, studying the ground.  “I'll never be able to say sorry enough for that.  I should have told you.  I just - I didn't know what to do.”  
  
She closed her eyes, willing herself not to get sucked into how lost he sounded, not to turn and pull him into her arms and forgive him right there - it was too important for them to get everything out in the open.  “You had to go.  It was the right thing to do - I would have told you to go.  But talking to me first would have been the right thing to do, too.  It would have been nice to find out from you and not the blaring alarms, leaving me wondering how it had taken just minutes for me to go from having a future to having nothing.”  
  
She could hear him suck in a breath.  “Lucy, you didn't have nothing.  You'll never have nothing, not so long as I'm alive.”  
  
She scoffed.  “You have _no idea_ what it's like, having the only thing you'd had left in the world inches away, knowing that his happiness is wrapped up in someone else.  You were all I had left, and then in the time it took you to get a text message…”  She paused, looking away, biting her lip, as if to keep in the things she knew were about to spill out.  Looking back at him, she lost the battle.  “You told me I hadn’t lost you, you'd just agreed that we had each other - and then you were _gone_.  But worse, then you were back, you were _there_ \- with her - and it reminded me, every day, that I’d truly lost everything.”  
  
Wyatt hung his head, his guilt apparent on his face.  When he finally looked back at her, he met her gaze and she was taken aback with the sincerity she found there.  “I wish I could take it back - I wish I could take everything back.  I wasn’t strong enough, brave enough to do it on my own.  To realize that I loved her, not like a wife but like an old friend - like someone who I'd grown apart from long ago.  To realize that she wasn't quite the same person I'd loved, to see the red flags - about how she'd always hated Chinese, about Kevin… about the fact that she was insistent she wanted a girl when I'd spent three years listening to her dream about a little boy.”    
  
Lucy ignored the dagger that twisted in her heart - again - and pressed on.  “Guess she got what she wanted, huh.”  
  
He shook his head.  “No.  No, _she didn’t_ , Lucy, she didn't.  I don't know why, I don't know _how_ , but that little girl - she doesn't have her.  It's you she calls Mom, it's you she runs to with skinned knees and nightmares and looks to for stories and kisses.  Because you're incredible, Lucy… I don't know how we end up where they are, but I know I sure as hell shouldn't have been surprised to find you as her Mom.  That you helped rescue her from Rittenhouse, made sure she was safe and loved - it's just nothing short of incredible.”  
  
Lucy looked away, tears pricking at her eyes.  “Maybe I don't want to be so incredible, Wyatt.  She's just a little girl, I'd never hold anything against her, never begrudge her being free from them - but how do I look at her every day, how do I _mother_ her, and see anything other than - than betrayal?  Than everything I’d ever wanted in life, given away so hurriedly to someone else?”  A pause, then, and a whisper — “How do I trust she won’t get taken away just as quickly as everything else that I've loved?  My sister, my mother—”  
  
_‘You’_ hung in the air, but she left the sentence unfinished.  It didn't matter; they both knew how it ended, both understood the implications.  He didn't need for her to drive the knife deeper to know what needed to come next.  
  
“I meant what I said that night after 1918, Luce.  _You haven't lost me._   I was stupid, I stumbled for a bit - but I'm here now, forever and always.  Whenever you decide you want me, _if_ you ever decide you want me.  You're my first choice, my _only_ choice.  The biggest regret of my life is that I didn't make that clear sooner.”  He bit his lip and looked away, gaze getting lost in the hustle and bustle of the busy Chinatown streets.    
  
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him; she did.  In basically everything - everything but this.  This was a hard one to swallow, his insistence that he wanted to choose her - didn’t actually want the very thing he’d wanted as long as he’d known her - and she just couldn’t get her brain around the shift.    
  
Wyatt was quiet for a long time - a long, long time - before he spoke again.  When he finally did, it was as if he had read her mind.  “My marriage was a mess,” he started, and she looked back at him with thinly veiled confusion in her eyes.  “Long before Jessica died.”  He paused, and she felt as if he might be steeling himself to admit to her something he'd been loath to admit even to himself.  “That fight… the night she died… it wasn't just _a_ fight, it was _the_ fight, the culmination of all of the other fighting that had gotten us to that point.  Going out that night, it was supposed to reconnect us.  But I acted like an ass and…”  He trailed off again, gazing down the street for another moment before he continued.  “The fact of the matter is, even if she hadn't died that night, it probably would have been the end of my marriage - if not that night, then fairly soon after.  And so much of the guilt came from knowing that she'd died not just because of that night, but because I'd been such an awful husband to her that we’d gotten to that point.”  He paused, another long pause, and then, “Suppose it doesn't make it any easier to trust me when you see the mess that's underneath.”  
  
“It does, actually,” she replied softly.  “To see what's going on, what you’re bottling up.”  She grew quiet for a moment, and then, “Why don’t you talk to me, Wyatt?  I shouldn't have to learn about you by overhearing you talk to other people - your father to Wendell Scott or your service to Jim Bowie.  I need you to talk to me about things.”  
  
His brow furrowed.  “What kind of things?  You want an annotated version of my history?”  
  
“It doesn’t need to… just - things.  Whatever you're holding onto, smashing down in a given moment - whatever you think I don’t want to see - stop holding it inside.  Let me in.  I want to see it all.  Everything.”  She paused, musing for a moment and then, “That night by the pool, talking - it was the start of something really good.  And I'm not talking just about the after,” she said, watching him smirk out of the corner of his eye.  “I’d like to get back there again.  But you have to talk to me.”  
  
“About my checkered past?”  
  
“About _everything_.  I want to hear it, Wyatt.”  
  
He nodded, briefly; opened his mouth like he was ready to offer something else - but then the expression on his face changed.  She followed his gaze to find a petite brunette in the crowd, just as he softly exclaimed, “Jiya!”  
  
And with that, the moment was broken - the importance of the mission pushing everything else to the wayside. She could only hope that he'd think on her words and maybe, just maybe, once they'd rescued Rufus they'd be able to start the slow climb to rebuild what they'd lost.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, all, for the kind reviews on the last chapter! Glad to see there's still a fanbase post-movie. ;) I hope you enjoy this chapter - I told Lucy and Wyatt they had *one* conversation to get their junk straightened out but they didn't listen. (I know, I know - do they ever?)

Wyatt scrambled up from the ground, offering Lucy a hand.  He caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, running the backs of her hands across her face, managing to smudge most of the tear tracks in the process.  Good.  The last thing they needed was to freak Jiya out.    
  
They picked their way across the busy street until they were within shouting distance.  He and Lucy exchanged a look, and as they got closer, she hollered, “Jiya!”  
  
Jiya turned, caught sight of them and took off the other direction.  _Of course she did_.  They should have thought of that and gotten closer, close enough that he could grab her if necessary.  But instead, he found himself ducking after her through the crowded streets of Chinatown, praying Lucy would be able to catch up.  Or be smart enough to stay put so he could find her again.  Either one would be okay by him.  
  
Although Jiya’s petite frame and knowledge of the streets gave her the advantage at ducking through crowds, Wyatt’s longer legs gave him the advantage of speed.  Thankfully, he was able to keep sight of her as she wove through the crowd.  Within a few minutes, he was able to catch up to her, grabbing her elbow.  “Jiya!  Wait!”  
  
“Let me go!” she replied, wrenching out of his grasp.  “You can’t be here, Wyatt.”  
  
“Jiya…”  He trailed off.  “We came to get you, to bring you home.”  
  
“I can’t go home,” she replied, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.    
  
“Of course you can,” he replied, his tone all but begging.  He continued as she shook her head.  “You don't belong here, Jiya.  And we need you.”  
  
She shook her head, more vehemently this time.  “I can't!  Rufus will die if I go.  The visions…”    
  
She trailed off, biting her lip, as if she couldn't bring herself to say it.  As if he hadn't already lived that very thing.  Wyatt took a deep breath, considering how to handle the situation.  The middle of the street was no place to tell her that the love of her life was already dead.  He couldn’t do that to her.  _He_ probably shouldn’t be the one to do that at all, considering it was his fault.  They needed to find Lucy; Lucy would know what to do.  “We have a plan.  Come on, let’s just find Lucy.  I lost her in the crowd back there.”  
  
“Go find her,” Jiya replied.  “And then take her home.”  
  
He sighed in frustration, worry mounting as he glanced back at the crowd, no Lucy in sight.  “Jiya, we’re not going without you.”  
  
She met his solemn face with a defiant lift of the chin.  “It’s not worth saving me if it means losing him.  I’ve seen it - I know that he dies when you guys come to rescue me.”  
  
Wyatt considered for a moment; he needed to give her enough to reassure her that coming with him wouldn’t do as she feared without spilling the whole story.  “Rufus isn’t here, Jiya.”  
  
She furrowed her brow.  “He waited back at the Lifeboat?”  
  
“He’s not even in 1886.”  He paused, letting her digest the information as the questions formed on her face.  Before she could start by asking the obvious - how they made it there without a pilot - he jumped back in.  “Come on.  Let’s find Lucy and then we can explain everything.”  
  
Finally she conceded, her posture relaxing as she fell into step with Wyatt and they moved back through the crowd.  He hoped Lucy had had the sense to stay put once he lost her in the crowd.  He took a deep breath, calming his nerves - he _could not_ lose her again.  And wouldn't that just be their way, one good conversation, one step towards healing, and then… His anxiety started to rise as he realized how stupid he'd been, running off after Jiya like that.  He should have had a little more foresight, had the sense to come up with a plan before getting separated in the crowd like that.  
  
All of his worries proved to be for naught, however, as he found her perched on the edge of the Bison Horn’s porch.  He blew out a breath, then kicked himself for not trusting her, not trusting in _them_ \- that by now they could anticipate each other’s actions.  Still — “Oh, thank God,” he said, pulling her into a tight hug.  “I thought I’d lost you.”  
  
“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” she said with a smirk.  Turning her attention to Jiya, she offered half a smile before launching herself into her friend’s arms.  “I’m so glad we found you.”  
  
“I’ve missed you guys,” Jiya said, pulling out of Lucy’s arms to offer a quick hug to Wyatt.  “I’m sorry I resisted back there.  I just — Rufus—”  
  
“We know.”  Lucy’s face fell as she looked down at the dirt and kicked a pebble.  Looking back at Jiya, her eyes clouded with unshed tears, she asked, “Is there somewhere that we can talk?”  
  
Jiya nodded, looking troubled.  She drug them across the porch into the saloon.  Wyatt pushed back nausea as they stepped across the spot where Rufus had died - or would die, two years in the future - and followed the girls into the saloon.  Jiya cut a path through the crowded patronage, dragging them back into the back room that she’d shown them in 1888.  
  
“This is where I stay.”  
  
Lucy offered her a gentle smile.  “With Molly and Sarah, right?”  
  
Jiya’s brow furrowed.  “Who’s Sarah?  I share with Molly and Annie.”   She paused, as her furrow deepened.  “Wait, how do you know about Molly?”  
  
Lucy raised a hand to her head, rubbing her temples, as she contemplated what to say.  Wyatt stood by, hoping she could sense his silent support.  “I… we’ve been here before.  In 1888.”  A pause and then, “You share with Molly and Sarah then.”  
  
Jiya’s brow furrowed.  “What happened to Annie?”  Lucy shrugged helplessly as Jiya shook off the irrelevant question before continuing.  “Doesn't matter.  What do you mean, you were here in 1888?”  
  
“We found your picture in the book, found the message you left us—”  
  
Jiya cut her off, agitated.  “The message I left was _don't come_.  Why didn't you listen?”  
  
Lucy sent her a soft smile.  “C’mon, Jiya.  You should know Rufus - all of us - better than that.”  Jiya glared, but said nothing - so Lucy continued.  “The picture was labeled wrong - we thought it was 1888, so we all came to get you.  Rufus insisted, um - he knew the risks, we all did - but the most important thing was _you_.”  She took a deep breath, pushed it out, eyes on Jiya, and Wyatt could read the pain that danced across her face as she prepared to relive that day.  He considered reaching out, but thought better of it; the last thing the girls needed was him butting into the middle of their moment.  
  
Lucy continued.  “We almost made it.  You managed to grab the gun off the chair and get a shot off - took care of the goon you'd seen.  We were all so excited - we thought we’d done it, found a way to escape the visions.  But uh—”  
  
Lucy’s voice caught.  She looked to him - seeking support, this time, not for him to handle it.  He reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze as he offered an encouraging smile.  She smiled back, weakly, in gratitude - then turned back to Jiya.  “Jiya, he, we - we stepped onto the porch and he was shot.  There was nothing we could do.”  
  
There was a pause as Jiya digested the information, then stepped back with a cry of anguish, wrapping her arms around herself and evading Lucy’s attempts to pull her into a hug.  “Why did you come for me then,” she asked, tears pouring down her face.  “What good does it do if he's already gone?”  
  
Lucy glanced at Wyatt, the ask clear in her eyes.  “We think we can save him,” he started.  “If you come with us now, you won't be here in 1888.  We think it'll be enough—”  
  
“How can you be sure,” she whispered, anguish seeping from her pores.  Raising to a yell, she continued.  “How can you be sure you're not bringing me back to a world where he's still dead?”  
  
“We can't,” he answered simply.  “But we felt like we had to try.”  
  
Silence reigned for a moment as Jiya wept.  Finally Lucy turned to him, brow furrowed.  “What if there's something else we could do?”  
  
He frowned.  “What else _is_ there to do?”  
  
“Jiya left a message, once before.  With Fei,” she started, looking between the two of them.  A pause and then, with a wry, sad smile, “Worked in Back to the Future, right?”  
  
Wyatt snorted; he wasn't sure it was the _most_ appropriate callback, considering everything - but it was definitely something Rufus would have said.  “Worth a shot, I guess.”  
  
Lucy looked to Jiya.  “Jiya?  What do you think.  Leave him a note that tells him you're not here - turn him around to go back home before he ever makes it to the saloon?”  
  
Jiya looked back at Lucy, blinking back tears.  “What good will that do?”  
  
“We went there, Rufus and me,” she said, closing her eyes briefly - and he knew she was thinking of her mother.  “Fei brought us here.”  
  
“I told her not to!”  
  
Lucy smiled gently.  “That’s what she said, but she's a little girl, she knew you were in danger, and she was scared.  So if she has a note from you, instead, she can tell Rufus you left two years ago and let him read it in your words…”  
  
She trailed off and there was silence for a moment.  He could see Jiya warring, considering it, and once again he was struck by Lucy’s brilliance - passing something to their 1888 selves to change what had happened ( _would happen_?) in order to save their friend.  
  
Finally, Jiya blew out a breath.  “Sure - okay.  We can try.”  She didn't look totally certain, but they didn't need her to be certain.  They just needed her to agree.  
  
They scrounged up some paper and waited patiently as Jiya wrote a note, instructing Rufus to turn around and go home - that she'd left and would see him in - “How long’s it been?”  
  
Wyatt squinted, trying to decipher the time between when they'd last been in Chinatown and now.  “Few days?  2, maybe 3?”  He looked to Lucy for confirmation; she nodded.    
  
Jiya resumed her writing.  After a few paragraphs, she folded the heavy brown paper.  “I put a few things in so he'll know it’s really me.”  
  
Lucy nodded at her.  “Anything you need to grab before we go?  Anyone you want to say goodbye to?”  
  
Jiya’s face fell.  “It's probably better if I don't.  I don't even know how I'd explain it.”  
  
Lucy nodded, and finally Jiya let her approach.  Lucy slid an arm around her friend, giving her a squeeze.  “C’mon.  Let's go drop off this letter so we can go home.”

* * *

As they headed to the photography studio, Lucy and Jiya walked ahead of Wyatt, chatting quietly. He trailed behind, keeping a close eye on them as he watched for signs of trouble.  But no trouble seemed to come; unlike their typical missions, they weren't chasing any modern-day enemies around, leaving danger a little less likely to be lurking around every corner.  Given the relative peace, he allowed his mind to drift - just a little - back to his conversation with Lucy.  
  
_Choose her_ , her future counterpart had said - and okay, he could do that.  Had done that, after 1983 and until Jessica came back into the picture - when he stumbled and so stupidly lost his way.  But he could go back to that - _would_ go back to that - making her his priority, the most important thing in his life, each and every time.  
  
But _talk_ to her?  That was a hard ask.  He learned as a young boy to tuck everything away; the less his father knew, the less he could use against him.  It was a skill that had served him well in the Army, too - and even Jess, _his_ Jess, hadn't needed to know what went on in the recesses of his brain.  But Lucy was different.  Part of it was that they'd gone through so much together; there was no separation between his work and the rest of his life and she'd been there for all of it.  But part of it was just because she was _Lucy_.  And unlike Jess, who angrily tossed around “state secret” as if he _liked_ keeping her in the dark about confidential missions, Lucy seemed to be asking less for him to share what he was _doing_ and more about how he was _feeling_.  Which he supposed he could try to do - as uncomfortable as it made him, if it meant making things better with Lucy, it would be worth it.  In fact, it may have been the most important thing that anyone had asked him to do in the last six years.  
  
Glancing ahead again at Lucy, arm wrapped protectively around Jiya as they walked, he realized it might have been the most important thing anyone had asked him to do _ever_.  
  
Of course, even if he learned to open up now, when he truly could share _everything_ , what would happen down the road?  If they ever did defeat Rittenhouse and returned to a life outside of their current weird situation, what then?  It was a big if, but it had to be considered.  He’d be sent off on another assignment, undoubtedly classified - and would his inability to share that with her hamper any life they might try to build together?  
  
He couldn't guarantee that he could manage to open up to her about what he was going through if he couldn't share what - or where - he'd just come back from.  And was that fair to Lucy, to promise to talk only to be caught in a swarm of NDAs and confidentiality some years in the hypothetical future?  
  
On the other hand, was it fair to potentially throw away what they could have now for something that might or might not ever happen?  Especially because, from where he stood, it sure looked like this fight was nowhere close to done.  
  
But if he wanted to be _fair_ , he realized, this wasn't a decision to make on his own.  The possibility of needing to dam everything up for some hypothetical assignment during some hypothetical life after some hypothetical victory - maybe she'd feel it was worth the risk for what they could have right now.  
  
But could she really feel he was worth the risk?  After everything?  
  
He pushed out a breath, forcing himself to remember that each of them assuming what the other had wanted was what got them into this mess in the first place.  So as the girls came to a stop in front of the studio, he knew this was his cue to do as she'd asked, to let her in.  He took a deep breath.  “Jiya, you got this?”  
  
It was clear from the look that Jiya shot him that she more than had this.  “You guys wait out here.  I'll be back in five.”  
  
He nodded, then turned his attention to Lucy as she watched Jiya walk through the door of the studio.  Once the door swung closed behind her, Lucy turned her attention back to Wyatt, brow furrowing at the intense look on his face.  
  
“Penny for your thoughts, Mr. Logan?”  
  
He offered a stilted nod.  “I've been thinking.  About the future.”  
  
She raised an eyebrow.  “Like 1888, or 2018, or…”  
  
“About _our_ future.”  He ducked out of her surprised expression to find the steps behind him, backing up to sit on them.  He patted the space beside him, the concrete rough under his hands.  “C’mere.”  
  
She obliged, her look of surprise having morphed into one as skepticism as she perched herself beside him.  He reached over, placing his left hand on top of her right one, lacing their fingers together.  Presumptuous, perhaps, but it was the only thing that might give him the courage to say what he needed to.  
  
“I've been thinking about - about what you asked.  The sharing.  It's —”  He looked over to find her gazing intently at him and met her eyes.  “That's not something I've been good at, Luce, _ever_.”  He hoped she could read the meaning between his words; he had every faith that she would understand.  “But I'm willing to try; I'm willing to try for you.”    
  
A hint of a smile appeared on her face at that, but he continued before she could respond.  “I just worry, though, about down the road — if we ever end this war…”  
  
She chuckled, and he was confused by the mirth in her eyes.  “You're worried about how to be emotionally honest when you can't talk to me about your work?  Whatever happened to ‘one problem at a time?’”  
  
He couldn't help but smile back, even if the expression cleared as quickly as it came.  “I just don't want to promise you something that I might not be able to follow through on.”  
  
“Can you follow through on it _now_?” she asked, the question voiced sincerely - no hint of judgment or sarcasm in her voice, just an expectation of bare honesty.  
  
“I’m willing to give it a shot,” he replied, hoping he matched her sincerity.  
  
She nodded, as if her point had been made.  “Then we’ll worry about what happens then _then_.  Whatever life we build together will be built one moment - one decision - at a time.  You trying - being open when you can - will make it easier to trust you when you say you just _can’t_.  I don't have any illusions about the nature of your job - after living it with you for the last two years, I get it better than probably anyone.  And _if_ that day comes when that’s something we need to worry about, we’ll cross that bridge together.”  
  
He nodded, slowly, pensively.  “That’s something you can live with?  The not knowing?”  
  
She offered him a soft smile, her eyes sparkling like she was laughing at the punchline of a joke she hadn’t yet told.  “No one’s supposed to know their future, Wyatt.”  A pause and then, “And no, the irony of that statement is not lost on me.”  She paused again, squeezing his hand.  “We can't possibly know what the future holds - not even with the other version of us in play.  We’ve changed too much already.  So whether we get to go back to our lives next week or whether we’re still in this fight when Rosie’s kids are grown… I have every faith that we can navigate it if we do it _together_.”  
  
He nodded pensively.  _Together_ \- he liked the sound of that.  But still; his attempts at honesty wouldn't go far if it didn't go both ways.  “One condition.”  
  
Her brow furrowed, and she looked worried - genuinely worried, as if her newfound peace had been ripped away from her _again_ , and he kicked himself for causing her concern.  “Not a bad condition, Luce.  I wouldn't do that to you.  It's just - I need you to do it, too.  Speak up for what you want.  Be honest; don't make assumptions about what I want, don't think I'll be happier without knowing what _you_ want.  Don't ever feel like you should sacrifice what you want for me - for anyone.  Not without talking about it first.”  
  
Her response was soft, almost forlorn, as she looked at the ground.  “I just want you to be happy, Wyatt.”  
  
“Well that works out well for the both of us then, since I’m finding it’s pretty impossible for me to be happy if you’re not.”  
  
She couldn't help but smile back at him for that.  “Really?”  
  
“The last few weeks have been torture, Luce.  Seeing you so miserable— Having that distance between us—”  He shook his head.  “I never want to go there again.”  
  
She didn't really reply, just kind of gazed at him like she couldn't believe that this was really happening.  He lifted their hands to his lips, pressed a kiss to her fingers.  “I meant what I said back in the bunker.  I love you.  I know I screwed up, and I plan to do my damndest to make it up to you.”  
  
“This is a good start,” she said honestly, affection dripping from her tone.  “It'll take a while to rebuild that trust.  I—”  She trailed off, staring pensively into the crowded Chinatown street for a moment before continuing.  “I wish I could fix it all overnight.  But it's just going to take a while.”  
  
Maybe that should have bothered him, but it didn't - at all.  Forgiveness, the opportunity to rebuild what he'd so callously broken, was more than he could have asked for - and far, far better than he deserved.  In the spirit of honesty, he told her as much.  
  
He got a cross frown in return.  “Don't you ever, _ever_ think you don't deserve happiness.  Yeah, you made some bad choices, but Wyatt - it was an impossible situation.  It could’ve been handled better - by both of us - but it never could've been handled perfectly.”  
  
Looking back at her, he tried to absorb what she'd told him, but despite his efforts he couldn’t quite forgive himself that easily.  “I don’t know, Luce.  I could have handled it a damn sight better than I did.”  
  
She looked at him - not quite disappointed, maybe more frustrated?  “And we can choose to hang onto that forever, or we can choose to move forward.”  A beat and then, “Future Me said it’s up to me - whether I close off from you or let you earn my trust again.  And that’s what I want - to trust you again.  I have hope that we can get there.”  She paused again, a funny look crossing her face.  “ _They_ give me hope.  Watching them - us - together...  if they built that trust back, then so can we.”  
  
He pressed another kiss to her hand, clutched tightly in his - she wasn’t pulling back and he had no intention of giving it up until she did.  They sat in companionable silence until Jiya stepped out of the studio a minute or so later, blinking back tears.    
  
“All set,” Jiya offered.  
  
“You got the letter to Fei?” Lucy asked.    
  
Jiya nodded, stilted, clearly not wanting to discuss it further.  
  
Lucy began to stand, as if to go over to her, but whatever words of comfort she had were forgotten as Jiya’s expression changed and she moved her focus to the two of them.  “Let’s go.”  
  
Wyatt stood, asking, “You ready?”    
  
Jiya nodded again.  He nodded back at her, offering a small smile.  “Lifeboat’s this way.”  
  
They'd walked not far - maybe a few hundred feet - his own pace slowed to keep in time with Lucy’s shorter legs.  Their arms brushed as they walked, and he wanted nothing more to grab her hand again - but he wasn't sure they were there, not quite yet.  Jiya trailed behind, but she must have been observing them, because after a few moments she pulled up beside Lucy and gave them both the side eye.  
  
“Something’s different here,” she noted, continuing to eye them skeptically.  Wyatt might have been miffed about Jiya sticking her nose into their relationship, but he got the impression she needed the distraction, so he bit his tongue, letting Lucy reply instead.  
  
“Yeah… we talked,” Lucy said, the corner of her mouth turning up in an ironic smile.  A conversation wasn't much for most people, but for the two of them…    
  
“This is weird for me, you know,” Jiya continued, hesitantly, almost like she wasn't sure how to approach the situation.  “For me, for the entirety of the time I’d known him, Wyatt had been married.  And while you two were close, you never would’ve…”  She trailed off, breaking eye contact, searching in the distance for some unknown answer.  
  
Wyatt exchanged a glance with Lucy, knowing her thoughts mirrored his - where was this going?  A lecture, an admonishment, a benediction?    
  
He didn't have to wonder long, as Jiya fixed her eyes back on the pair and continued.  “But Rufus swore, up one side and down the other, that it was different for the three of you - that Jessica had been gone for years when you met.”  Wyatt offered her a small nod as she continued.  "So in his timeline, he spent a year watching the two of you dance around each other like skittish deer until you finally got on the same page.  He said it was inevitable - kind of like being in the lifeboat once the rings started spinning… you knew it was gonna go, but it was shaky as hell until takeoff. So even though I’m still having a hard time wrapping my brain around this, I'm pretty damn sure that if Rufus were here, he'd tell you, ‘About damn time.’”  
  
With that they lapsed into silence again.  She was right, of course, he would’ve - and he would have been right.  He just hoped that this trip would give Rufus the opportunity to say as much for himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this update has been so long in coming... for reasons unknown, I had a heck of a time with this one. The good news is, the next chapter is already partially written, and it's one that I'm pretty excited about, so - hopefully I can get it to you more quickly!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> \- DSB

Silence engulfed the group as they trudged back towards the Lifeboat, punctuated only with the occasional, “Watch that tree branch,” and “Go right here.” Each of the small group seemed lost in their own thoughts, just as Lucy was; Jiya with thoughts of Rufus, no doubt, and Wyatt? Judging from the glances he kept tossing her direction, she assumed his thoughts were of her.

Hers were certainly of him.

It was a big ask, she knew, for him to open up. He seemed to think that sharing the things he worked so hard to keep hidden from her - his thoughts, his feelings, his past - would make her think less of him, make her fall out of love with him somehow. If only he realized how far from the truth it was. It would be impossible to categorize all of the ways and times she’d fallen in love with him - she’d simply been in love with him, almost as far back as she could remember knowing him - but when she thought of the moments where she’d fallen deeper, it was almost always those things he hadn’t wanted to share. About his father, about his team in Syria, about Jessica. (Oh, the irony.) She had no idea how to get him to internalize that notion - that being vulnerable with her wasn’t a weakness. Of course, knowing the little she did about his father - and now, about his relationship with Jessica - she shouldn’t be surprised that he was so guarded. It’s hard to be genuine when you’ve learned that everything you share can be used as a weapon against you. She’d learned that with her own mother.

Hopefully, with time, he could learn to trust her with those thoughts. Until then, she'd just have to be patient with him - take the signs that he was trying on good faith.

Out of the blue, she heard Jiya gasp as she wheeled on the two of them. “Please tell me you didn't.”

Lucy jumped at the sudden utterance, stopping in her tracks. “Didn’t what?” she asked, furrowing her brow.

“Stanley. Please tell me you didn't.”

She exchanged a glance with Wyatt, and quickly ascertained that he was just as puzzled as she was. “Who’s Stanley?”

“The lifeboat pilot - the one I went to see with Mason. The one who has visions like mine.”

Another exchanged glance, and then, “We don’t know Stanley. So we definitely didn’t - whatever.”

Jiya kicked at the dirt, then resumed walking. “I just thought that maybe - maybe he was your pilot. ‘Cause it wasn’t me, and you’re telling me it wasn’t Rufus —” Lucy caught the break in her voice, but she continued on. “And I’m assuming you didn’t sweet-talk Emma into this rescue mission. So how the hell did you get to 1886 without a pilot?”

“We uh—” Wyatt let out a mirthless chuckle, undoubtedly trying to decide how best to explain their selves-from-the-future. He locked eyes with Lucy and they had a silent conversation - may as well tell her the truth. This couldn’t be that much of a shock - after all, Jiya had engineered a time machine, right? Ultimately, he opted for the rip off the bandaid approach. “I guess - in a manner of speaking - we piloted ourselves.”

Jiya blinked. “ _How_ long have I been gone?”

Wyatt let out another chuckle, this one in slightly better humor. “Few days. Definitely not long enough to learn to pilot the Lifeboat.”

“Then how—”

Lucy piped up. “Right after we got back last time, a second Lifeboat appeared next to ours. With us in it. From 2023.”

Jiya wheeled on her and gaped. “From the _future_?”

Lucy had to bite back her amusement at Jiya’s reaction - as if she hadn't been just as astonished. “Apparently so. And it seems that somewhere between now and then, you teach us both how to fly the Lifeboat.”

Jiya thought for a minute, digesting the new information. Then a look of alarm came over her face as she glanced between Lucy and Wyatt. “Then how are they - you - not dead? You can’t go back to any time you already exist!”

“They haven’t explained that, really, except that it’s possible. We didn’t push, um… honestly, we didn’t care how, as long as we could save Rufus.”

Jiya nodded pensively, beginning to walk again. Lucy imagined that she was probably running scenarios over and over in her mind, trying to work out how the time loop was possible - which, if she were honest, she was curious about too. Again she exchanged a glance with Wyatt, who merely shrugged. He'd always been pragmatic like that; the why and how didn't matter as long as it got the job done. She kind of envied that about him.

The group once again lapsed into silence. Lucy figured they were getting close to the Lifeboat, and sure enough, they hadn't walked too much further when voices filtered through the trees. Wyatt tossed an arm up to bring the girls to a halt, raising a finger to his lips to indicate they should remain quiet as his own voice floated back to them.

“—if that’s really what you want, Luce.”

Wyatt shot a look over at her and she raised an eyebrow, as if to ask if they should really be eavesdropping on their future selves, but he shrugged back. It’s not like they were getting much information out of them otherwise.

Lucy could hear her future counterpart sigh; heard the rustling of leaves on the ground as she must have shifted positions. “I thought pushing everything out would make things better. Now I’m not so sure…”

“Can you blame her? If you'd thought—”

“I can't even imagine it. Watching her watch you two today… it almost feels cruel. I’m just not sure if it’s better for her to know or…” She trailed off for a moment. “I don’t know. I just want so badly to make it better for them. Make it easier. I know we shouldn't meddle, but—”

Future Wyatt’s voice came out soft and low - so low Lucy had to strain to hear it. “I know. I get it. I lived it too, remember?”

She chuckled, wryly, as if at a joke that wasn't funny. “Unfortunately. Sometimes I wish I could forget that whole part of our lives.”

Some more rustling, and then things got more muffled - Lucy could only imagine her future self had moved to snuggle against Wyatt’s future counterpart, closing the distance they'd been so careful to leave when they had an audience. “I'm so glad we got through it. When I think of how close we were to—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, his voice muffled as well, as if he'd buried his lips in her hair, “Don’t go there. We’ve been over this a million times. We can't change the past - not for us anyways - and we got Rosie out of the deal.”

Whatever reply her future self gave was lost to Jiya stepping forward, looking apprehensively between he and Lucy. “Guys,” Jiya hissed. “Is that… seriously? They sound _exactly_ like you!”

Lucy & Wyatt shared a look. “Because it _is_ us. Just… five years from now, apparently.”

Jiya shook her head, letting out a humorless chuckle. “Guess things turned out okay for you two after all.” A pause and then she spoke again, a tinge of suspicion to her voice. “But guys… who - or what - is Rosie?”

“What?” Lucy asked, feigning ignorance. Wyatt shot her an odd look; he clearly knew she’d heard the question. But she shot a look right back at him and she hoped her message was clear - this wasn’t her story to tell.

Jiya looked at her skeptically. “They said they got Rosie out of the deal…?”

Wyatt felt Lucy’s gaze fixed on him as she raised an eyebrow, and he took it as a cue that she was handing off the story.  In turn, he looked back at Jiya, letting out a resigned sigh. “My kid, apparently.”

Jiya’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “Jessica was telling the truth?!” she said, a little too loudly - the hushed voices they'd been hearing through the trees suddenly stopped.

“Apparently,” he replied, beginning to move towards the Lifeboat - knowing their future selves had heard them, that the time for eavesdropping was done.

Jiya followed after him, brow furrowed. “But I swore I heard her and Carol —” She stopped, appearing to take stock of her words and thinking better of whatever she was going to say. “You know what, never mind. Doesn't matter.”

Wyatt scowled at her, a remnant of the arguments of the prior week, before remembering that his friends had a pretty solid reason to suspect Jessica was lying. He might have thought the same if he'd had a minute to think about it before Rosie popped her little head out of the Lifeboat. He cleared his expression just as they emerged through the trees to find their future counterparts sitting on the ground, several feet apart, as if they hadn’t been snuggled into each other moments earlier. Despite himself, he rolled his eyes. He could appreciate the whole ‘it’s a burden to know your future’ thing, but in this case, obvious was obvious. How Lucy ever forgave him, he wasn't sure - but it was clear their future selves had managed to move past everything to forge a life together.

He glanced over at Jiya to find her eyes wide. Hearing about their doppelgängers was one thing, he knew, but it seemed that seeing both copies in the flesh was messing with her head.

“Hey Jiya,” Future Lucy greeted her offhandedly, pulling herself easily up off the ground. Her Wyatt did the same, and Jiya just stared for a minute, eyes briefly flashing from the future pair to the duo she’d just been rescued by and back.

Finally Jiya raised a hand in a lame wave, and greeting her with a “Hey,” followed by a gesture at her chinline - “Hair’s cute. I like it.”

“Thanks,” Future Lucy replied with a nonchalant shrug. “Easier to take care of this way. Haven’t exactly had easy access to a salon the last few years.”

“Which explains the creature on his face,” Jiya continued, nodding towards Future Wyatt with mischief in her eyes.

Wyatt noted that his future counterpart looked a lot less put out than he would have been, matching his Lucy’s unaffected shrug, the light in his eyes betraying any annoyance. “Nice to see you too, Jiya.”

“Right, so,” Lucy said, “We should probably get back? See if Rufus…”

Her future counterpart replied with a curt nod. “Yeah.”

Wyatt watched as his future counterpart climbed into the Lifeboat. Meanwhile, Future Lucy picked up the blanket they'd been sitting on and shook it out. She walked over to set it on the rings when his future counterpart called out, “Hey Luce?”

His own Lucy leaned as if to respond to the call, before realizing quickly that he was calling for the _other_ Lucy, and he couldn't help but smile. It was a reminder of the weirdness of everything, but moreover, a reminder that despite everything that had gone between them, her response to him was still intrinsic, automatic. The thought buoyed the small flame of hope that had been sparked by their earlier conversation.

Wyatt looked up as his future self swung a leg out of the Lifeboat, landing his foot on the rings, a mass of limbs and curls attached to his shoulder. “Take her, will ya? I need to get everything set up.”

He watched the wordless exchange as the little girl was passed between parents, as easily as if they'd done it a million times. And, despite how foreign the idea seemed to him, they probably had. Given how little experience he had with children, watching the practiced ease of a handoff in a not-so-distant future was more than a little disconcerting.

Future Lucy snuggled Rosie onto her shoulder, the girl muttering as she curled up. “Shh, baby, Mommy’s got you,” Future Lucy said soothingly, one arm tucked securely under the girl’s knees and the other rubbing gentle circles across the back of her cotton dress. She looked so little sleeping there - terrifyingly little, actually. Even knowing the scant amount he did about kids, he knew she was small for four, but her bubbly, enthusiastic curiosity gave her a presence that betrayed her age. Watching her as she slept, he couldn't help but notice how fragile her limbs looked, her tiny fingers curled into the back of Future Lucy’s shirt and her bare toes hanging limply at her mother’s hip. Future Lucy rested her cheek on the top of the girl’s head, pressing a kiss to her temple as Rosie burrowed further into her neck.

Watching the pair, all he could think is that he sincerely hoped his Lucy was able to walk the path this Lucy had traveled, because he had no idea how to do it alone. That little girl deserved so much more than the world she was being born into, smack into the middle of a brutal war with her best chance at a normal life resting with her screw-up of a father. If he was the only one she had to rely on, then —

His thoughts were interrupted as his future self leaned back out of the Lifeboat, arms reaching for Rosie, fingers curling in an invitation to hand her over. Future Lucy crossed the few steps back to where he stood, dropping a quick kiss on Rosie’s head before handing her up. Her head lolled as Future Lucy lifted her off of her shoulder, and his future counterpart moved his second foot onto the rings, squatting to gather the little girl into his arms. Wyatt could see Rosie lift her head, a soft, sleepy smile crossing her face, and she mumbled, “Hi, Daddy,” before burying her face in her father’s chest and returning to dreamland.

How does he turn into that person, he wondered, as his future counterpart carefully climbed back into the Lifeboat. How does he become that safe spot for this little girl? Rosie clearly adored her father - both parents, really. The thought simultaneously soothed and terrified him, the knowledge that he had the capacity to be what she needed warring with the worry that something will go awry and he'll end up no better than his own father. What if it's Lucy’s stabilizing influence that grounds him, keeps him from turning into that miserable drunk? There's no guarantee that his Lucy will make the same choices that this Lucy did, no guarantee that Rosie will have her selfless, caring influence to balance out his own reckless impatience. And that's no way for a child to be raised.

Although if it's that or Rittenhouse, what choice does he have?

“C’mon,” he heard Lucy say, and he turned to see that it was Future Lucy, tapping him on the shoulder and motioning towards the other Lifeboat. “Time to get back.”

He nodded, trailing behind her. After a moment, she glanced back at him. She had a look on her face, one that he'd started to recognize as a war between what she knew, what she wanted to tell him, and what she felt she _could_ tell him. Finally she seemed to settle on a message. “Stop worrying,” she offered, and he felt his brow furrow.

“How did you—”

“You always did worry way too much about whether you were enough for her. I know why - I get it, _trust me_ I get it - but just stop. You won't be him, you'll never be him, you _could_ never be him. Everything I've ever seen my Wyatt do with her is a deliberate choice to not be his father. For the most reckless man I've ever known, he is endlessly patient, impossibly kind, and gentler with her than I've ever seen him be with anyone other than me.” She blushed shyly at that, as if maybe she'd let on to more than she meant to, and he blinked, the expression the most reminiscent of _his_ Lucy that he'd seen out of her. “It's not because of me, either; he likes to say it's my influence that makes Rosie who she is, but it's not. She adores him, he hangs her moon and her stars.” A pause and then, “She loves me too, don't misunderstand, but all of those doubts you have about whether or not you'll wreck her - you won't. It's _because_ of those doubts that you'll never, ever hurt her the way he hurt you.”

Wyatt nodded slowly, absorbing her words. They made sense. It seemed that she saw right through him - just as his Lucy always did. Although he was still having much difficulty reconciling Rosie as _his_ , he knew without a doubt that he couldn't bear to hurt that wisp of a little girl.

Future Lucy left him alone with his thoughts as she followed Jiya into the Lifeboat. Climbing in behind her, he listened as the two women had a quick debate about who would fly. In the end, Jiya ceded to Future Lucy after declaring that she's “gotta see this.” Watching her settle in, amused, curious eyes trained on her friend, Wyatt found himself noting that this Jiya was lighter, somehow, than the Jiya they'd retrieved from 1888. He found himself hoping that pulling her out of Chinatown earlier had saved her some of the trauma her 1888 self had endured - that maybe getting Rufus back wasn't the only gift that this trip had given her.

* * *

Rosie, Lucy noticed, had managed to sleep through the entire flight. She found herself envious of the four year old - she couldn’t imagine dozing peacefully while having her atoms rearranged, all the while hanging from a harness made for someone four times her size.

But even Rosie couldn’t manage to stay asleep through their jarring return to solid earth, stirring upon landing.  She cracked open her little eyes, immediately finding Lucy. “Hi Mommy,” Rosie said, flashing her a sweet, sleepy smile. She would not acknowledge the way her heart clenched at the moment. _Would not_. This was not her life, she _could not_ get attached to the idea of a life that wasn’t hers - not without an insane amount of work to bring them to that place. As if sensing her internal battle, Rosie blinked, then giggled. “Oops - not-Mommy.”

“Hey Rosie,” she offered lamely, managing a ghost of a smile for the little girl. If Rosie noticed, she didn’t react, instead moving her attention to Wyatt. “Daddy, is Uncle Rufus here?”

Lucy’s eyes shot to Future Wyatt. _Is he_? For the first time since their future selves had arrived in the bunker, she sensed some apprehension about him as he took a moment to steel himself before answering his daughter. “I sure hope so, Ro,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. A few days without Rufus had been torture… she couldn't imagine five years.

He hit the button and the hatch slid aside just in time to see Rufus charging at the Lifeboats. “Did you get her?!”

Tears sprang to Lucy’s eyes. She moved towards the hatch, popping her head out just in time to see Jiya fly down the steps at Rufus.

His face lit into a grin. “You’re alive!”

“ _You're_ alive,” she replied, throwing herself into his arms and meeting him with a kiss.

Lucy climbed out of the Lifeboat, unable to tear her eyes away from her friends - and nearly tumbling down the side as a result. As she caught her footing, she saw Rufus and Jiya break apart. Rufus pulled back, eyeing his girlfriend skeptically. “Did you think I wouldn't be? You’ve only been gone a few days.”

“My visions—” she started hesitantly, before stopping and regrouping. “It's been almost a year for me. And every time I've had a vision, you got stabbed when I tried to leave. But then Lucy & Wyatt showed up, without you, and um—” She paused again, blinking back tears. Her voice dropped. “They told me you were dead, Rufus. That you'd all gone to 1888 to rescue me, and you'd died.”

Rufus squinted at her in confusion. “So I know it's been a long few days and nobody’s slept much, but I'm pretty sure you all just got back from 1886. We never even saw you in 1888, your note said you were already gone - so how could I possibly have died there?”

Lucy looked up to find identical looks of confusion on the faces of Mason and Agent Christopher. By now, the rest of the group had disembarked the Lifeboats, and her Wyatt piped up. “This isn't the first time we’ve rescued Jiya, Rufus.”

A beat of silence engulfed the bunker as the Lucys and Wyatts exchanged glances, a silent debate over who was going to talk. The decision was deferred to the pair who had spearheaded the journey, and after another moment, Lucy’s future counterpart piped up.

“For us - we’ve had to live through the last five years without you. Five years, Rufus,” she reiterated, verklempt. “When we went with you and Flynn to get Jiya in 1888 three days ago - your time - there was no note. We went to the saloon where Jiya had been working and it, uh - it kind of all went to shit. You ended up getting shot on the porch… there was nothing we could do. It's —” She paused, blinking back tears. “It's been awful, Rufus. We’ve spent every day since then trying to figure out how to undo it. The best we could figure was to pull Jiya out earlier, figuring without her there, the events of 1888 wouldn't be the same.” She offered him a small smile, almost bittersweet. “Looks like we might have finally managed a mission that was an unequivocal success.”

“So when the two of you showed up two days ago and said you needed these two—” he gestured to the present-day pair — “to go rescue Jiya—”

“Never happened for us. That's rewritten history.”

Rufus stood, dumbfounded for a moment. Lucy noticed that Christopher and Mason, while not unaffected, seemed significantly less stunned. This would have been normal for them, she supposed; the team briefing them on a completely different reality than the one they remembered. Still, it wasn't typically one that hit so close to home, and Mason in particular was beginning to look a bit shattered as the notion that Rufus had been gone began to sink in.

“But he’s - he’s here now, all’s well, yes?” Mason implored the group.

Future Lucy nodded. “Jiya’s back safely, Rufus never died — all’s well. For you at least.”

Mason's brow furrowed. “For me?”

“For those of you who never lived it any differently. For us - who’ve lived five years without him - and even them,” she said, taking a moment to compose herself as she gestured at her present-day counterparts, “It won't fade so easily. The memories of Chinatown… the years without him. You'll have to be patient with those of us who remember the original timeline. It's… it wasn't easy.”

“Don't let Lucy undersell it,” Future Wyatt said, voice uncharacteristically soft. “It was awful.”

Silence reigned for a moment as the group looked at each other, before Rufus gestured to his teammates. “C’mere,” he said, pulling Future Lucy & Wyatt in for a hug, followed by their present-day counterparts. He released them, but only let them pull back far enough for one of his hands to land on each of their shoulders, forming an awkward sort of triangle. “I was really dead?”

Wyatt nodded. “Emma shot you. We tried to stop the bleeding, but there was nothing I could do. Jiya was devastated. She'd been willing to stay in 1888 to spare you and it still hadn't mattered. Coming back here without you - I don't know how we would have made it if they hadn't shown up.” He tilted his head towards the future versions of himself and Lucy, the latter of whom stood with tears still brimming in her eyes.

Rufus pulled the duo back in for another hug, clapping them both firmly on the back. “I'm here now. No more awful, okay?”

Wyatt shook his head. “I'm just so sorry, man. About Jiya - about all of this. You were right to be angry. If I hadn't been so blindly trusting of Jessica — we could have avoided all of this.”

“It's okay—”

“It's really not. But I'm going to do my best to keep my head screwed on straight from here on out - you have my word.” A pause and then, more softly, “We’re a team, Rufus. This only works if it's the three of us together.” Another pause as he gestured behind him, “Look, it took another set of us to replace you.”

“Guess that means, what - I'm worth two men, then? Take that, old white dudes who came up with the three-fifths compromise!”

Wyatt laughed. “All I know is I'm just glad to have you back. Our world kinda stopped spinning without you here.”

They both nodded against his shoulder before pulling back and stepping aside. Jiya, still standing nearby, looped an arm through his, and the group faded into a comfortable silence.

Reunion hugs completed, Future Wyatt spoke up. “With all of this timeline nonsense, I'm gonna guess you’ve done this before, but - I've got somebody here who wants to meet you.”

Amidst all of the celebrating adults, Rosie had been unusually quiet, tucking herself behind her father’s leg and watching Rufus with interest. As Future Lucy snuck in just one more hug - and, Lucy could see, Rufus tried to appreciate the fact that this reunion was five years in the making - Future Wyatt placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Go on,” he said, smiling down at his daughter.

Rosie stepped out and stood in front of Rufus, eyeing him skeptically. Finally she spoke up in an uncharacteristically shy voice, asking, “Are you my Uncle Rufus?”

Rufus looked between Future Wyatt and Future Lucy, perplexed. He contemplated for a beat before replying, “Yeah, kid… I guess I am.”

Rosie split into a grin, tossing her arms out wide. “I have waited my whole life to meet you!” she said, her voice a solid dozen notches louder than it has been moments ago as her shyness faded away.

Lucy watched her future counterpart bite back a grin as Rosie continued. “Can I give you a hug?”

“Uh… I guess so,” Rufus replied. Almost instantaneously, Rosie tossed herself at his waist, eliciting a small “Oof” from Rufus.

She wrapped her little arms as far around his middle as they could go before grinning up at him. “Mommy says you know even more about science than Uncle Connor. Will you teach me _everything_?”

Future Wyatt laughed, then pried Rosie off of Rufus’ waist. “C’mon, Ro, let’s give your Uncle Rufus some space. He'll have plenty of time to teach you later.”

Rufus smiled bemusedly at Rosie as she nodded, bringing a hand up to rub the spot where she had plowed into him. He turned to Jiya. “Kid hugs like Lucy Preston.”

“Yup,” Jiya replied, biting back a smile as she shot a knowing look his way. A look passed between them that Lucy had a hard time identifying. She shook it off, instead turning over in her mind that Rosie had apparently picked up her habit of bone-crushing hugs. Fabulous.

Her attention was drawn back to Rufus and Jiya as she watched Rufus grin back at his girlfriend, throwing his arm around her shoulders in order to pull her to him and press a kiss to her temple. “Man I missed you,” he said as he pulled back, eyes fixed on Jiya as if she might disappear.

“You missed _me_? It's been a lot longer for me!”

“Touché,” he replied.

“How about we let these lovebirds get reacquainted,” Mason said, “While the Lucys and the Wyatts complete their post-mission briefing.” He paused, frowning. “I thought that would get less weird the more I said it. Not so!”

The group laughed. Lucy watched as Rufus and Jiya headed towards their room, trailing behind the rest of the crowd. Her future counterpart led the way, while Future Wyatt scooped Rosie onto his hip. Her own Wyatt followed close behind. She noticed Flynn then, leaning casually against the wall, where he'd presumably been watching the group.

“You missed out on all the festivities,” Lucy called to him.

“Not at all. It was fascinating viewing!” Eyes darting to Wyatt, he continued. “Is this your plan, then? Just use a time machine to fix all of your screw-ups?” When Wyatt didn't reply, he moved his eyes to Lucy, goading him further. “You know, not all things can be fixed that way.” Flicking his eyes to Future Lucy and then back to Wyatt, he continued. “Or maybe they can.”

Wyatt leaned as if to take the bait. “Don't,” Lucy said, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

The duo continued towards the common area, passing Future Lucy as she shot her Wyatt a look and then doubled back towards Flynn. Lucy watched curiously as her doppelgänger stalked up to the man who had started all of this nonsense.

“You have the exact opposite problem as Wyatt, y’know?” She saw the disdain wash across his face and waved him off. “He refused to let go of the past to see what was in front of his face. But you - you're so focused on rejecting the past that you're fixated on the present.” A pause and then, “I know you think you’re in love with me, but you’re not. I'm safe and I understand and you know I won't reject you for what you've done. But I'm also not your _family_. And if you'll hold on with us, just a little bit longer, we’ll make it right. I promise.” She paused, shuffling a bit as she waited for his response, which came in the form of silence and a stilted nod. She returned the nod, then continued. “In the meantime, it’d be great if you could stop picking at Wyatt. We’ve got enough going on in this bunker without you adding fistfights to it.”

He scoffed, probably prepared to say something, but Future Lucy turned her attention back to her Wyatt. “Tomorrow. This bunker is getting way too crowded.”

Future Wyatt cracked a crooked grin. “Agreed.”

Future Lucy glanced at her present-day counterpart. “It's one more jump before Amy,” she said, apology washing over her face, “But we’re out of space here. We need to get him out before bringing Amy in.”

“What are you talking about?” Flynn asked a suspicious bite to his tone, and Future Lucy turned a pitying smile on him.

“It's about time we got your family back, don't you think?”

She swung away from Flynn’s astonished expression, turning her attention instead to the little girl on Wyatt’s hip. Rosie sat with her head resting on his shoulder, observing the situation with interest. “Come see Mommy, okay? We should get you something to eat.”

Rosie nodded as Future Lucy pulled her into her arms, holding her close for a moment before shifting into a more comfortable hold. Lucy noticed an odd expression flicker across her face, disappearing almost as quickly as it came; whatever it was, Future Wyatt caught it too. He ran a quick, affectionate hand across her shoulders, then ruffled Rosie’s hair before joining the rest of the group as they settled around the common area. Denise began the debrief, but Lucy found herself distracted by the duo in the kitchen. Rosie was now seated at a table, her eyes glued to Future Lucy as the latter grabbed bread and began to make a PB&J.

“Lucy? Earth to Lucy,” Denise called.

“Hmm, what?”

“Any historical changes from this trip we should be aware of? Impacts to anything other than our own timeline?”

“Shouldn't be,” she replied, “It was a pretty clean job. Get in, grab Jiya, get out. She wasn't supposed to be there anyways. Most of the time we were there was spent hiking from the hills where we'd hidden the Lifeboats and back. We didn't even really interact with anyone, honestly.”

Denise nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “And who authorized the mission?”

“You did, ma’am,” Wyatt piped up. Denise shot him a look. “The question was directed at Ms. Preston, Master Sergeant Logan.” Moving her gaze back to Lucy, she tried again. “Lucy?”

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to contradict Wyatt?”

Denise leveled a stare at her. “No, I don't suppose I am.” She glanced at Future Wyatt, and then Future Lucy in the kitchen, filling a pot in the sink. “Anything the two of you would like to add?”

Future Wyatt shook his head. “I think the rest of the team has covered it. We stayed back at the Lifeboats, let Rosie get some sleep. Luce?”

“Only that I hope everybody’s okay with spaghetti for dinner.”

Various affirmations went up from the group. “All right, well I think we’re done here. Fine work, people.” She softened, business complete. “I'm ever so glad to have Rufus and Jiya back under our roof.”

“So are we,” Future Wyatt said, moving into the kitchen and flipping the water off before lifting the now-full pot onto the stove. “More than you can possibly imagine.”

“Five years,” Denise replied, a tinge of awe and sorrow evident in her voice. “I can't even begin to think how we’d manage it.”

“Not well,” Future Lucy said, moving to wet a paper towel and wipe up Rosie’s sticky hands. “I'm glad you'll never have to find out.”

* * *

Somewhere after dinner, Lucy stumbled upon her future counterpart curled into one of the so-called armchairs in the common space, Rosie tucked into her side as they pored over a kids’ science encyclopedia that had materialized from somewhere. Lucy sat, observing the pair as her future counterpart read about the composition of atoms.

As she finished a section, Rosie squinted up at her. “But _why_ do protons and electrons help everything to stick together?”

“I don’t know, baby,” Future Lucy said, brushing Rosie’s curls out of her eyes. “I leave the science stuff to the scientists, you know that. Why don’t you go ask your Uncle Connor?”

Rosie nodded, sliding down off of her mother’s lap and scampering off to find the man she apparently knew as her uncle. Before Lucy had a chance to think too much on what Mason’s reaction would be, she found her future counterpart fixing a gaze on her. Future Lucy offered her a soft smile. “We got Rufus back.”

“Yeah, we did.”

Silence sat between the two of them for a moment as her future counterpart closed the book and tucked it onto the end table next to her. She continued, her voice soft. “You know, I saw you watching Wyatt with her earlier. Back at the Lifeboat.”

Lucy stared back at her, trying to keep her face blank, as if her feelings wouldn’t be transparent despite her best attempts. “I know.”

“I can’t imagine how that is for you. I didn’t — I didn’t have that, watching them, without knowing everything that happened. I just… don’t let it bother you so much, okay?”

Lucy snorted. “I just can’t… how? How is it not like a bullet to the gut every time you look at them? After everything with Jessica…”

“She has nothing to do with them,” Future Lucy said firmly, causing Lucy to raise an eyebrow. “I mean it. Don’t worry about her. She’s been out of our life for a long time.”

Lucy looked down. She didn't miss the “life,” singular, encompassing the three of them - another confirmation of the situation that filled her with so many emotions. Awe. Wonder. Complete and utter bafflement. Future Lucy talked like it was no big deal, moving past Jessica, like she should bury everything that had happened and move on. As if all of that could just be forgotten, as she considered this now-daunting task of how to rescue Rosie _from Jessica_ and the even more daunting task of how to reconcile all of her feelings - make sure the little girl felt safe and loved despite everything. “How am I supposed to do anything _but_ worry?”

Future Lucy frowned, staring off into space for a minute, as if trying to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t violate whatever rules they had set in place. Finally she settled on, “There are differences, already. Big ones - Rufus - and little ones. You know some of what we’ve done, but you don't know everything. Our goal in coming was to make it easier for you. Well—” She paused, throwing Lucy half a smile, “It was to get Rufus back, and to make a better life for Rosie. But there were some things… if I could erase them from my own past, I would… so we decided to try. But changing things? We might have avoided those obstacles, but I'm seeing now that we’ve just created different ones. All of this - _her_ \- just take it as it comes. I know how hard that is for you - for us - but just trust me that you'll be a lot happier if you don't borrow trouble.” Another pause, as she stared off into space, with a look Lucy was quickly learning indicated she was contemplating how much she could say. Finally — “You fell in love with Wyatt even when you knew you shouldn't - tried not to. Your love for him just kind of… was. _Is_. Rosie's the same. It's automatic, effortless - not something you decide to do after over analyzing.”

“But—”

“And take it from me - don't fight it. Embrace it. You'll love Rosie, just like you love Wyatt. You’ll be much happier if you run towards that love than away from it. It's terrifying and out of control and everything you've spent your life trying to avoid - but loving those two, being loved _by_ them? It's worth every awful moment that's brought us here.”

Before Lucy had a chance to respond, her future counterpart had moved her gaze to where Rosie was peppering a bemused-looking Connor Mason with a litany of questions about molecular composition. “Ro, c’mon, let Uncle Connor be now.” Lucy’s future counterpart stood, flashing an apologetic smile at her younger self. “I told you to ask him a question, not demand an entire academic lecture,” she continued, walking over to scoop the little girl up. Lucy watched as she mouthed “sorry” to Connor before heading towards the bedrooms, Rosie in her arms. “How about we have a shower, try to get you back on a normal schedule, huh?”

Lucy watched after the duo as they disappeared, letting out a lingering sigh. It was clear that her future self had somehow moved past everything - and moreover, that their lives were better for it. Hers, Wyatt’s… Rosie’s. Thinking of the little girl, she sighed again. It wasn't really fair to her to filter her through just one lens, through six weeks of heartbreak, when that really had absolutely nothing to do with who Rosie is. She's a sweet, inquisitive kid - clearly adored by her future self. And Lucy, of all people, should know better than to judge someone by their parentage. After all, her own father had raised another man’s child - and while whether he was aware of that or not was lost to the shifting sands of time, she'd certainly never sensed any difference between how he treated her and how he treated Amy. Maybe even more importantly, her friends had loved her even when they learned that she was the heir apparent to Rittenhouse itself - her mother, her biological father - it didn't matter. Rufus, Jiya, Mason, even Agent Christopher… Wyatt… they all still loved and supported her unconditionally despite the fact that she was Rittenhouse by blood.

And so maybe she owed the same to Rosie. She wasn't sure how long their future selves would be around, but maybe she should take advantage of that time, get to know the little girl for herself instead of judging her on Jessica’s betrayal.

As if on cue, she heard giggles coming from the direction of the bathroom - the infectious giggles of a little girl, followed by laughter - her own genuine, true laughter. How long had it been since she'd laughed like that? The Gunter Hotel or Darlington, maybe, and before that… a long time. Too long. And if Rosie could bring that kind of joy into her life, then maybe she owed this not just to Rosie but to herself.

* * *

The bunker had turned in. At Wyatt’s insistence, the Future Family had moved into his room; they'd exchanged a guarded look but eventually agreed. He'd ceded the couch to Lucy, citing a learned ability to sleep anywhere and taking over her prior perch of the computer chairs.

She'd laid down, curled up partway to fit on the awful vinyl couch - still better than the chairs - and let her eyes flutter shut. Moments later, she heard a bedroom door open and Future Wyatt’s voice drift down the hall. “Night, Rosie Posie. Snuggle up with your Mama and listen to your stories, okay?” She couldn't hear the little girl’s response, but his “love you more!” left a pretty good key to the exchange. She wished - not for the first time - that everything wasn't so _weird_. She'd love to tease Wyatt - stoic, tough, military Wyatt - about his future self’s behavior around the little girl.

Eyes still closed, she could hear his footsteps echo down the hall as he made his way past her to where Wyatt rested. She could hear her Wyatt’s feet hit the floor - probably as he pulled them off the adjacent chair, offering it to his future counterpart, judging from the squeaking of the chair that followed as he must have sat down.

“Hey,” the future version of Wyatt greeted his present-day self. His present-day self must have nodded in response, because Future Wyatt continued. “How’re you holding up?”

Apparently eavesdropping was the theme of the day. As much as she knew she should probably pull a pillow over her head to give them some privacy, there was no way she was going to miss this conversation.

Wyatt must have shrugged - she could see it in her mind’s eye as his future counterpart continued. “Sorry we’ve kinda been ignoring you. Not intentional, just uh - she needs us more right now. Plus, y’know, I'm under orders.”

The smile in his voice was evident and she heard her own Wyatt laugh. “Still bossy, huh?”

“Still Lucy.” The affection in his voice was palpable, and it made her heart do flip flops inside of her chest. Five years later, and he sounded more in love with her future self than she could have imagined. Future Wyatt continued. “You two are gonna be okay. Her capacity for forgiveness is insane - I still don't know how…” He trailed off, and she could hear him considering his words, much as her own future counterpart so often did, shielding them from whatever they didn't feel they were ready for.

“If _you_ don't know, how is there any hope for me?” His voice sounded meek, small - so un-Wyatt that it made her heart hurt. And - considering it was a private conversation, held only in the safety of his own self - she wondered if this was what he heard inside his head, how he talked to himself all the time. If this self-doubt had colored how he'd perceived things during the whole Jessica mess, as she’d pushed him towards her over and over - as if what they'd been to each other had meant nothing. She'd assumed he knew that it was killing her, that she was doing it in order to assure his happiness - but knowing he'd been fighting to tamp down his own feelings? Maybe he'd spent those six weeks feeling just as rejected as she had.

They really needed to learn to talk to each other.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost missed Future Wyatt’s answer, delivered after a long pause - contemplation, she supposed. “Because she's her. And you two have a bond that's stronger than either of you realize. We didn't either, not at first, but it's the only thing that’s held us together through everything. The very same thing that had her pushing you towards Jessica - that she loves you enough that she was willing to sacrifice to see you happy - is the thing that will tie you two together in the end.”

Wyatt made a noise of acknowledgement. Future Wyatt was silent for a moment - Lucy almost wondered if he was done - but then started in again. “Don't let her do that, by the way, sacrifice her happiness for yours. Nothing good ever comes from it. She deserves to be happy, too. Demand it. Not in a way that comes at the expense of yourself - that's no better - but in a way both of you can live with.” Another pause and then, “There _is_ a happy medium. I live it every day.”

Her own Wyatt let out a deep, heavy sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if the best thing I could do is set her free, you know? Encourage her to let go, to find someone else - someone less likely to cause her so much heartache.”

A pause, a heavy sigh, and then, “I’m not sure if she could let you go if she tried. That's been her burden. You love her? Then pick it up for her.”

Wyatt posed the ever-present question then: “How?”

From the wry chuckle that erupted from Future Wyatt, she could imagine him splitting into a grin - a funny thought, something rarely seen on her own Wyatt’s face, let alone this older, more seasoned version - “I think my better half has already covered that with you. She needs to know she’s your choice, she needs to trust it. It’ll take a while, it’ll be a long road - just don’t give up on her.”

The chair squeaked again, Future Wyatt rising to his feet, not giving his present-day counterpart the chance to respond before he began walking away.

“Wait,” Wyatt said, and the footsteps stopped. She could hear him try to choke out the next word. “Rosie?”

“Don't worry about her,” Future Wyatt replied, his message identical to the one delivered by her future counterpart - with one exception. “When the time comes, you'll know what to do.”

The footsteps resumed, carrying Future Wyatt down the hall towards her. Instead of continuing on towards the bedroom, though, he stopped by the side of the couch and crouched down by her head. “I know you heard that. Don't ever doubt his love for you, okay? He's done a shitty job of showing it, but he's felt it for a long, long time - and he'll never stop.”

He stood and walked away before she could even get her eyes open and her head swiveled around to look at him. The faint echo of, “Ro, you took my spot!” filtered out, the little girl’s giggle fading away as the door shut behind him. She shook her head. _He_ may have felt that way - but what's the guarantee it would hold true for her Wyatt? Her own future counterpart had said they'd already changed things, that their paths might not be the same. Of course, his whole point was not to doubt it, and what's the first thing she'd gone and done?

Guess he knew her pretty well.

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, willing her brain to give into the exhaustion her body felt. She laid there for a few minutes - five, ten maybe - trying to clear her mind and drift off when she heard soft, shuffling footsteps approach.

The footsteps stopped and there was silence for a moment. And then, quietly, “You awake?”

She popped open an eye to look at Wyatt. “Pretty sure that's my line.”

Circling around, he perched on the edge of the coffee table. “Can we talk?”

She opened her other eye, raised an eyebrow. “ _Now_?”

“You said you wanted me to share,” he said, lifting a shoulder.

She went to pull herself to sitting, but he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to get up for me. I know how hard it is to get comfortable on that couch.”

Grinning, she swung herself into a sitting position. “Who said I was comfortable?”

He shrugged again, and she finally noticed how subdued he seemed. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” She raised an eyebrow again. “I mean, I just… this is a lot. Fixing things with Rufus… Them showing up…”

“Rosie,” she supplied. It was clear as day that he was thinking it; she was guessing he avoided voicing it in order to spare her feelings. But ignoring the situation didn't help anything.

“Rosie.” A pause and then, “They won't talk to me about her.”

“Me either, not really.” She eyed him for minute. They hadn't really talked about her yet, hadn't had the opportunity to discuss her at all. In fact, she was pretty sure she'd spent more time around her than Wyatt had. “She seems really sweet.”

“She does,” he agreed with an eager nod.

Lucy cracked a grin. “Did you know she loves riding in the Lifeboat?”

Wyatt snorted. “She what now?”

“Loves it. Tosses her arms up in the air like it's a ride at the county fair. Apparently no one told her that ripping through the fabric of reality isn't supposed to be fun.” A pause and then, “Or she's just reckless like her Dad.”

Wyatt sent her a smirk. “Of course. Couldn't have inherited something useful like my ability to sleep anywhere, no, it had to be the recklessness.”

Lucy laughed. “Oh, she got that too. This last jump? Slept right through the whole thing.”

“She _slept_ through the jump?!”

“Yup,” she said. “Right until the landing.”

“Guess my future self still has some more practice to do flying that thing, huh?”

“I mean, it's not bad - but it's certainly not as smooth as your driving!”

They laughed, then lapsed into silence. Wyatt shifted, fixing her with a gaze that made her insides clench up and her breath catch in her throat. Maybe Future Wyatt knew what he was talking about after all.

“I miss this. I miss _us_ ,” he started, softly, sincerely. “Not even… I mean, even from back before.” He moved around the edge of the coffee table, scooting a bit closer to her. “Just being us. It's just… I don't even feel like I can be me anymore without you there. Like I'm off balance or something. I know I'm the one who screwed it up, but even if we can't be… whatever… I really miss just having you as my friend.”

She frowned, his admission burrowing deep in her chest and opening another fissure into the protective casing she'd worked so hard to build around her heart. “I miss you too,” she admitted, softly, reluctantly.

“There's so much we’ve gone through here, and now, more than ever, you're the only one who understands. Even Rufus doesn't get it anymore. Not after losing him, having _them_ show up - it's not the same. It's just you and me. But I think… I think in a lot of ways it's been you and me since the beginning.”

She nodded, sending him a small smile. He wasn't wrong; even the first time they stepped into Mason, learning about the project; the first time they stepped into the time machine - it was all different for them than it was for Rufus. Lost in her thoughts, she almost missed his next soft statement.

“I'm not sure if I can do this without you. Rosie. Rescuing her, _raising_ her...”

She shook her head. “We’ll get her away from Rittenhouse, Wyatt. From there, I don't know, but - you won't have to do it alone.”

He smiled, a bittersweet smile - and she could see it was a mixture of relief and guilt. “But I also don't want you to feel like you have to — it's not right for me to ask you to raise my child. Not after everything.” He paused, as if thinking - considering - and broke her gaze, looking to his knees as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. “I just… it's not like I had much in the way of a role model, you know?”

She nodded. “Which is exactly why I know you'll never do that to her.” His eyes snapped up, brow furrowed. “Every time we climb in the Lifeboat, I watch him - _you_ \- with her. He's amazing with her - incredibly patient and just so gentle. But more importantly, I watch her with him. She adores her Dad, Wyatt… in a way that would never happen if you were anything other than loving with her.” A pause and then, “Who knew our Master Sargent was such a softie?”

He sent her a bittersweet smile. “She's a _kid_ , how else am I gonna be?”

“Distant, aloof, abusive? Deceptive? There's a lot of choices that don't include listening to her like she's some kind of treasure or taking the things she tells you seriously, showing her that her opinion is important. Treating her like she's a _person_ , not blowing her off ‘cause she's a kid. Showing her affection. All things I know you're capable of, because you've spent two years doing them with me.” She shook her head. “You parent Rosie a lot like you interact with me - no wonder she loves you so damn much.”

He locked eyes with her, the unspoken admission sitting between them. She wasn't ready to say it, that she loved him, but she hoped he knew anyways. She was barely able to admit it to herself. Still, that wasn't the discussion at hand, but rather the child they were apparently parenting together.

She dropped his gaze and he pushed out a deep sigh, staring at his knees and fiddling with a loose piece of wood trim at the edge of the coffee table. “It's so _much_. And I don't feel like I have a grasp on it, like I'm going to be able to give her what she needs. What if I screw everything up, turn her into someone different than the sweet little girl we’ve met here?”

“Impossible,” she replied. “All you'll have to do is love her. The rest… she'll let you know what she needs. Just love her enough to give it to her.”

“I don't have a great track record with the people I love,” he replied, hesitating. “With Jess, with you—”

She frowned at him. “A kid is not the same thing, c’mon, you know that. That parent-child relationship… it's a lot more unbreakable.” She paused, thinking for a minute. “Your Grandpa, right?”

A true, genuine smile lit his face. “Yeah, Grandpa Sherwin?”

“That's your role model. Whatever he did - however he treated you? You talk about him like Rosie looks at future you.” Wyatt nodded thoughtfully as she continued. “So forget about your Dad and focus on that. You've seen what it's like to have both kinds of parents in your life - you just need to choose who you want to be.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile. “There's no choice about it. She deserves my Grandpa, not my bastard of a father.” A pause as he looked down and shuffled uncomfortably, before lifting his head back up to meet her gaze. “You'll hold me to it, help keep me accountable?”

She offered him a smile and nod of her own. “I can do that.”

They lapsed into an easy, comfortable silence. She marveled - briefly - about the fact that was even possible after all that had gone between them. But her thoughts were interrupted as she let out a stilted yawn, then flashed Wyatt an embarrassed smile. “Sorry. Not the company.”

He chuckled. “Wouldn't blame you if it was. I, uh - I should let you get to bed.”

She gave him a quick nod, swinging her legs back around and trying her best to get comfortable, curled on her side on the too-short couch. She reached for the blanket, but her fingers hit only cold vinyl. Craning her neck, she attempted to look behind her, but instead found the blanket hovering above her in mid-air, Wyatt’s hands clutching the corners. She stilled, letting him drape it over her; the action sudden enough she didn't even have time to consider if she wanted to reject it.

He bent, brushing a barely-there kiss to her temple. “G’night, Lucy.”

It took her a moment to reply, to recover from her surprise; by then he was gone. She heard the squeak of the chairs as he settled into his sorry excuse for a bed. Even sorrier than hers, which, she thought as she shifted around on the couch, was really saying something.

She sighed. He surprised her, constantly; the sweet gesture of tucking her in exemplifying what she'd told him about his interactions with Rosie. She understood his worries about repeating his father’s actions - had them herself, in light of her mother’s deception - but she didn't share them. He’d come so far in the time she'd known him, she couldn't possibly imagine this Wyatt turning out to be anything other than an amazing father.

She appreciated his assurance that he didn't expect her to parent Rosie. But she knew that wasn't really realistic; not for her. If Wyatt brought a baby into the bunker, she couldn't imagine she'd be able to stay away. Especially if they were anything to each other, which was looking increasingly likely with each conversation that passed. Her future self had nailed it on the head; the Logan magnetic pull was something she was far more familiar with than she'd like to admit, and Rosie had it every bit as much as Wyatt did. Furthermore, that little girl deserved to grow up with a Mom, deserved that love and stability. And maybe, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, considering all she'd seen between her future self and the little girl, she deserved it, too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite is when you have a 7700 word chapter all ready to go, except there are like four sentences you just can't get quite right and it takes days to sort out that handful of words!! :/
> 
> Anyways. Chunks of this chapter have been written for quite some time and I'm super excited to share them with you guys. I hope you enjoy!

The vibe in the bunker had been completely different since their future selves had arrived.  Not just because of their presence, but because for once, instead of the frantic scramble to respond to the mothership, the bunker’s occupants had the leisure of time.  
  
And so despite the jump ahead of them, when Lucy awoke she found the rest of the occupants in various stages of their morning routine.  Some were in the kitchen, others at the computers, and the rest yet to emerge from the various bedrooms.  Judging from those around her, she’d slept surprisingly late - particularly given that her makeshift bed was in the middle of the common area.    
  
Lucy sat partway up, stretching out her stiff and achy muscles as she peered at the kitchen’s occupants.  Wyatt stood in front of the toaster, while Denise sat at one of the tables with Rosie, who was debating breakfast choices with her future self.  
  
“We got any o’s?” Rosie asked.  
  
“Looks like we’re all out, baby, but I bet Aunt Neece can get you some next time she goes to the store.”  
  
Lucy could see the agent try to control her surprise at the title, a battle she lost when the little girl swung around to face her.  “Will you please, Aunt Neece?”  
  
“Well, now, how can I say no to that face?” she replied, and Rosie lit up with a grin.  
  
“Can we do oatmeal this morning, Ro?” her future self asked, and Rosie shrugged.  
  
“Guess so.”  
  
Future Lucy bustled about the kitchen, opening packets, adding milk and water, tossing bowls into the microwave.  But it was Wyatt who drew her attention; sneaking glances over his shoulder at the wild-haired girl seated across from their commanding officer.  She thought of their conversation from the night before as she watched him examine her.  Rosie was oblivious, animatedly telling “Aunt Neece” exactly which “os” she needed to buy - “You need t’get the green ones, Aunt Neece, don't buy the yellow ones ‘gain, ‘kay?  They're gross!” - complete with hand gestures for emphasis.  Wyatt’s face was neutral, curious - like he was trying to absorb as much information about the tot as possible.  Eventually he leaned back, arms crossed, watching her as Future Lucy slid a bowl of oatmeal onto the table in front of her; a smile playing about his lips as she moved to kneel on her chair and lean over her bowl, sweeping her hair to the side with a primness that could only have come from Lucy.  
  
He must have felt Lucy’s eyes on him, as he shifted his gaze her direction.  “Sleep well?”  
  
Before she could reply, Rufus wandered into the room, Jiya on his tail.  “Of course she didn’t.  That couch sucks.”  
  
“Language, Uncle Rufus,” Future Lucy admonished, and Rufus frowned at her.  
  
“C’mon, Lucy-from-the-Future - yesterday it was all crying and hugs and today I’m in trouble?”  
  
Future Lucy shrugged, tilting her head towards the little girl sitting at the table.  “This job doesn’t stop just because somebody decides to come back from the dead.”    
  
Rufus turned his gaze to Lucy, still on the couch.  “Look, you know I love you, Lucy, but two of you is entirely too much.”  
  
Lucy shrugged, standing and rounding the couch to join the group in the kitchen.  “Two of us is the only reason you’re not still dead.”  She slipped her arms around Rufus and gave him a squeeze.  “I'm so glad you're back.”  
  
“Uh, me too… I think,” he replied, and Jiya gave him a swat.  
  
“Not funny!”  
  
The foursome settled at the adjacent table, taking turns at hopping up and down to get various breakfast items.  Once they'd settled, Future Lucy addressed the group.  
  
“We’ll leave just as soon as everyone is ready.  Wyatt’s in the shower and Flynn’s in his room, brooding.  So as soon as you guys are good,” she gestured to Lucy and Wyatt, “we’ll head out.”  
  
Lucy nodded.  Jiya, on the other hand, looked thoughtful.  “Okay but - I have a question about this,” she started, looking at Future Lucy like she wasn't sure she was allowed to ask.  It occurred to Lucy that this Jiya had technically just met her yesterday, so given the circumstances, she guessed her trepidation was understandable.  
  
“Sure, shoot,” Lucy’s counterpoint replied.  
  
“So if you guys are going to go back and make sure Flynn’s family doesn't get murdered, then how does all of this” — she gestured around them — “get started?”  
  
“Great question,” Future Lucy asked, standing to wet a paper towel to wipe up Rosie’s sticky face.  “In short, he still steals the Mothership.  We’re able to take care of the goons who killed his family, but the hit still goes out.  Different goons means slightly different timing - he was able to get Iris and Lorena out of the house alive, but they had to flee the country and go deep into hiding.  He steals the Mothership in hopes that he can take down Rittenhouse and get them their life back.”  
  
Lucy furrowed her brow.  “Take care of the goons by—”  
  
Future Lucy shrugged.  “They're contract killers.  Taking care of them before they get started… it saves his family but preserves our timeline.  We worry that anything else leaves the potential for Rittenhouse to run off unchecked.”  
  
Lucy frowned, but before she had the chance to object, Jiya piped up again.  “So after you take care of the goons—”  
  
“Last time we did this, we found that his family had been able to come out of hiding after all of the arrests.  Agent Christopher kept them under tight security afterwards.  In the altered timeline, I guess Flynn must have been a lot less… brutal… because his sentence was relatively short and he was able to go back and be with his family.”  Future Lucy shrugged.  “Can't see any reason why a redo would play out any differently.”  
  
Lucy frowned.  “Taking the goons out decades before their time though — the ripple effects on the timeline—”  
  
Future Wyatt wandered into the kitchen then, offering a smile to Lucy’s future counterpart and ruffling Rosie’s hair.  He looked at Lucy and chuckled.  “I think we passed worrying about historical butterfly effects a long time ago.  Stuff changes.  The goal is to attempt to preserve some semblance of our timeline… and to survive.”  
  
Lucy looked at her counterpart, who merely shrugged, as if to validate his point.  “Can't argue with that.”  A pause and then, “All right gang, Lifeboats leave in an hour.”  
  
“She’s spent too much time with Agent Christopher,” Rufus stage-whispered to his tablemates. Future Lucy wandered over and swatted him on the shoulder.  “Oh hush up and eat your pop tart.”  A pause and then, “And don't ever change, okay?”  
  
He grinned up at her.  “That's one order I can manage to follow.”

* * *

The Lifeboat landed, and Lucy felt _terrible_.  The jumps had made her queasy on and off since the beginning, but ever since she'd been riding in Lifeboat 2.0 - it was like something about its enhancements didn't sit right with her.  She looked across at Rosie and a thought occurred to her.  “Hey, maybe I can stay back with Rosie.  I'm - suddenly not feeling so hot.”  Maybe it would do her some good to spend some time with the girl, anyways - to come to view her as something other than a reminder of loss.  
  
A look of _something_ crossed Future Wyatt’s face as he looked between Lucy and his kid.  He looked ready to reject her offer, but she _really_ didn't feel well.  “That's why you came to get us, right?  More hands on deck to help with her?  Surely I can hang out in the Lifeboat with her for an hour or so.  Besides - didn't you say it was bulletproof?”  She flashed him a grin that she hoped would work on him like it would on her version, and she wasn't disappointed.  
  
Finally he nodded.  He swung his chair around and flipped the latch on one of the storage bins before pulling out a small tote, filled to the brim with toys.  Mostly stuffed animals, it looked like, and a stack of books.  She pulled them out, shuffling through the stack - there was the odd kids’ science book scattered throughout, but most were children’s biographies.  Einstein, Churchill, Curie, Lincoln, Angelou, Tubman, Parks…  She set them back in the bin and looked back at Wyatt, eyes wide, and he shrugged.  
  
“Reading these to your kid was the thing you mentioned back in 1754 when you thought we were all gonna die.  You really think Rosie wouldn't own a set?”  
  
She blinked.  “Well, I guess we've got plenty here to keep us busy ‘til you get back.”  
  
Future Wyatt nodded, stepping between them and hitting the button to go outside.  “This thing _is_ bulletproof.  Don't open the door for anyone except us - me, other me, other you.”  She nodded and he bent low to whisper into her ear.  “If things go sideways, there's a weapon in the box under the console.  Don't be afraid to use it.”  
  
She nodded and he slipped out the door, sliding down the rings like it was nothing.  “Apparently my piloting is not to her liking,” he addressed the group as a whole.  “Made her nauseous.  She's gonna hang with Rosie.”  
  
She could hear the smugness in her other self’s voice.  “Told you I was the better pilot.  Other you says I'm better than Rufus.”  
  
Future Wyatt snorted.  “Don't let him hear you say that.”  
  
Their voices faded out as she hit the button to close the hatch, rolling her eyes.  Then - and only then - did the full weight of her snap judgment come back to haunt her.  She'd been around Rosie for a few days now, sure, but with seven other adults in play, she'd hardly interacted with her.  Still, she was four, she was sweet, she was silly, and she loved history and time travel - they should get along fine.  
  
“It's still weird that you look like my mom.”  
  
Lucy blinked.  “Honey, your Dad explained it to you—”  
  
“I know.  But it's still weird.”  A pause and then, “You like books like her?”  
  
Lucy nodded.  “Love ‘em.”  
  
Rosie matched her nod; solemn, somber.  “Good.  I'm glad you stayed with me, then.”  She paused, glancing down at her harness.  “Can you unbuckle me so we can play?”  
  
Lucy nodded, unfastening her own harness and tossing it out of the way, then reaching across to do the same for Rosie’s.  The little girl stood in front of the pilot’s chair, digging through the bin, finally coming up with a book on Marie Curie.  “Can we read this one?  It's my favorite.”    
  
Lucy nodded, and much to her surprise Rosie clambered into her lap.  “Mommy says she was a scientist,” she said as she climbed, “and almost as cool as Aunt Jiya & Uncle Rufus.”  She paused, craning her neck to look at Lucy.  “I think I'll be a scientist when I grow up.”  
  
“Okay,” Lucy said, shifting in her seat to get a better look at the child.  “You know you can be anything you want to be, right?”  
  
Rosie rolled her eyes.  “My mom _always_ tells me that.  So I told her I wanted to be a dinosaur, and she said _"anything"_ meant a people job.”  Lucy bit back a laugh as Rosie thought again.  “Maybe I can be a time-traveling scientist and bring back the dinosaurs?”  
  
“Uh,” Lucy said, hiding her laughter with a cough, “I mean, you could, I guess.  But - dinosaurs like to eat people, so think it through first, okay?”  
  
Rosie shrugged, and then turned her attention to the book.  “Can we read now?”  
  
“Of course!”  
  
Lucy opened the book and Rosie bent over, her short curls obstructing some of the words.  Lucy reached to hold them back, and Rosie turned to look at her.  “We keep some clips over here,” she said, hopping off of her lap and sliding open a tiny drawer probably originally intended to hold extra circuits or something.  “Mommy doesn't like my hair over the words.”  She fished a hair clip out of the drawer and brought it over to Lucy.  “You put it in like this,” she illustrated, missing about a third of the hair she was trying to pin back.  
  
“Good job,” Lucy said, fighting back the urge to pull the clip out and fix it.  She remembered having these same discussions with her mother, and her tries were never, ever good enough.  Every time, her Mom pulled it out and fixed it, and every time, it chipped away at her confidence that she'd ever be able to do it well enough.  She could read around Rosie’s hair if it meant preserving her confidence.  
  
The little girl climbed back into her lap and Lucy read about the discoveries of radium, polonium, the isolation of radioactive isotopes, and the development of the petite-Curie.  Rosie listened quietly despite the story’s length, and issued a polite, “Thank you” when Lucy finished.  
  
“What did you think?”  
  
“She's cool,” Rosie replied, “But the story needed more dinosaurs.”  
  
Lucy laughed despite herself as Rosie hopped off her lap, digging in the box to look for their next activity.  The girl grew up in a time machine and all she wanted were some dinosaurs.  Maybe Agent Christopher could get her some figurines or something before they went back to their own time - a going away present of sorts.  
  
A thought occurred to Lucy.  
  
“Hey Rosie,” she asked, and the tot turned to face her.  “When's your birthday?”  
  
“Which one?” Rosie asked.  
  
Lucy chuckled.  “Most people only have one, honey.”  
  
Rosie shook her head.  “I have two, kinda.”  Then her eyes grew wide.  “But I'm not s’posed to tell anyone about that.”  
  
Lucy considered, briefly, prying the child for more information.  But ultimately her conscience won out, and she sent Rosie a gentle smile.  “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.  Which one are you allowed to talk about?”  
  
“December 19th,” she said, the last remaining hint of her baby lisp making the date sound, adorably, like “nine-teenf.”  
  
“2018?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Lucy nodded.  The timing was about right.  She would have been a little early, maybe, but what with all of the kidnapping, murdering, and hopping back and forth through time, maybe that was to be expected.  
  
She had no idea what the second birthday could be about, though.  
  
She and Rosie were on their fourth book - Harriet Tubman this time - when a knock sounded at the door to the Lifeboat.  “Hey, it’s me,” said a voice, sounding suspiciously like her own.  
  
“Who’s me?”  
  
She could hear the owner of the voice sigh.  “Other you, me.”  
  
Sounded reasonable enough, but still - glancing at the girl on her lap and realizing she better be _sure_ \- “Prove it.”  
  
The voice sighed again.  “You told Wyatt you skipped prom to go to debate, which was true, but what you didn't tell him was that it was also because you couldn't bear to watch Michael Garrison there with Sophia.”  
  
Lucy reached over, hit the button, feeling a slight blush rise to her cheeks.  “Maybe I should have gone,” she said to her future self cheekily, “Been good practice for learning to temper my jealousy.”  
  
Her future self didn't laugh.  “Not _quite_ the same.”  A pause and then - as she looked at Rosie on Lucy’s lap - “This is weird.”  
  
“That's what I said!” Rosie exclaimed with glee.  
  
“You always were too smart for your own good,” Future Lucy replied, ruffling her hair before tossing the cushion out of the way and settling into Rosie’s seat.  “You put your hair up?  You must've been reading.”  
  
Rosie nodded.  “Harriet Tubman’s so cool.  Maybe some day I can drive a train too?”  
  
Future Lucy chuckled.  “Different kind of railroad, baby.”  
  
Rosie shrugged.  “I still think I like scientist the best.”  
  
“Well, you're lucky you've got Aunt Jiya and Uncle Rufus and Uncle Connor then.  Mommy’s barely got enough science to fly this thing.  Uncle Rufus is so smart he _built_ it.”  
  
“He _did_?” she asked, eyes bright with wonder.  “How come?”  
  
Future Lucy laughed, shaking her head at the girl.  “I have _no_ idea, Ro.  I guess just to see if he could.”  
  
“Kinda like bringing back a dinosaur,” Rosie mused.  “It might be kinda fun, or maybe he might eat you.”  
  
Future Lucy looked at Lucy skeptically, as if to ask if she knew what Rosie was talking about.  Lucy shrugged.  “Half an hour ago it was a time-traveling scientist.”  
  
“Ah.  And she wanted to bring back a dinosaur.”  Future Lucy shook her head.  “What are we gonna do with you, Rosie girl?  Do I have to worry about my little girl being swallowed alive by a brontosaurus?”  
  
Rosie laughed.  “‘Course not, Mommy.  He's a vegetarium.”  
  
“Oh!  Silly me, I forgot.”  
  
Rosie hopped off of Lucy’s lap, bracing her hands on her mother’s knees.  “Mommyyyyy… don't be silly.  I would be very careful to not get eatened.”  
  
Future Lucy pursed her lips, a glimmer of humor still in her eye.  “Well… as long as you're very careful, I suppose it would be okay.”  She stared at the girl for a moment  “C’mere,” she said, lifting Rosie onto her lap.  “Mommy could use a snuggle.”  
  
“‘Kay,” Rosie said, leaning back and letting Future Lucy give her a squeeze.  After a moment, she craned her neck to look up at her mother.  “When’s Daddy coming back?”  
  
“Soon, sweetheart,” she replied, before moving her focus to Lucy.  “She's such a Daddy’s girl.  Always has been.”  
  
“Mommy says I liked him better even when I was in her tummy.  I think she's just silly.  I don't love him more, I just love him different.”  The tot curled into her mother, wrapping arms around her waist to give her a hug.  
  
Lucy, meanwhile, had gone white, her world grinding to a halt on its axis.  Her future self, eyes trained on her as soon as Rosie’s statement left her mouth, hadn't failed to notice.  Anticipating the question that would be coming her way as soon as Lucy could form a coherent thought, she gave her a smile, gentle and apologetic all at once.  “You know I can't answer that.”  
  
Lucy was agog.  “You can't answer _this_ question.”  
  
“We talked about this - I can't answer everything.”  
  
Voice rising, Lucy threw her hands up.  “It's kind of a big one!”  
  
Softly, gently, her future self replied.  “After what she just said, do you really need me to?”  
  
“But — Jessica—”  
  
“I told you not to worry about her.”  
  
“But— I thought —”  
  
Future Lucy shrugged.  “You made some assumptions.  We didn't correct them.  Couldn't correct them.  But just because you assume something doesn't make it true.”  
  
Flailing, Lucy replied.  “Of course we assumed!  What else should we have thought?  Why wouldn't we assume that the kid you showed up with is the kid we knew about?”  
  
Her outburst earned her a smile from her future counterpart - pitying, almost condescending.  “But did you know, really?  You trusted the word of a known liar and a traitor - someone who had manipulated and double-crossed you - all of you.  Looked past things that didn't quite fit - like a precocious, history-loving child with curly brown hair and blue eyes - in favor of what you thought you knew.  We tend to do that, you know - ignore those little warnings to make things fit neatly in the box we’ve defined.  Cognitive dissonance and all.”  
  
Lucy deflated.  “Kind of like Wyatt did with Jessica.”  
  
“Same principle.  Only now it's you who was so hung up on her that you looked past what was staring you in the face - sometimes literally.”  
  
Circling back, Lucy tried again.  “So Rosie’s — she’s —”  
  
Her future counterpart shrugged, glancing at the child on her lap.  “You tell me.”  
  
Blowing out a breath, Lucy stood - needing a walk, needing some space, some air.  The past was good for that, at least, fresh air and open spaces that they couldn't get in the bunker.  She clambered down the rings and started towards the path where the guys had gone, walking to clear her head.  Rosie was _hers_?  She'd spent hours wondering how things had transpired, how they'd gotten her from Jessica, how she'd ended up agreeing to play happy family with the two of them.  It made far more sense that none of that had had to happen - that Jessica had lied and that Rosie was theirs.  Kind of a big spoiler about her own life - so much for not knowing things that might change.  Made mentioning Rosebud to Hedy Lamarr seem like nothing.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by her own voice yelling at her from the hatch of the Lifeboat.  “Don't wander far!  If I lose you, I’ll hear about it from my Wyatt _and_ from yours.  I've known him long enough to stay off the receiving end of that.”  
  
Lucy spun around and looked back at her blankly.  _Wyatt_.  Did he know about this?  When they'd talked last night, he seemed to be operating under the same impression that she had been.  This would devastate him, yet another lie from Jessica - even if it did make things easier in the long run.  
  
Easier being a relative term.  
  
December, Rosie had said; there must have been some timeline anomaly at play, or else she was quite premature.  That thought broke her heart, the precious girl in there getting such a rough start in life - as if growing up in an underground bunker wasn’t rough enough.  So when her future counterpart slipped skillfully down the rings, Lucy wheeled on her.  
  
“What's up with the two birthdays?” Lucy asked, frustration pushing an unusual aggressiveness into her tone.  
  
Future Lucy frowned.  “She wasn't supposed to talk about that.”  
  
“She's four.  It slipped out.”  
  
Sighing, Future Lucy shook her head.  “Its a long story.  Hopefully doesn't matter for you.”  
  
“So when is her actual birthday, exactly?”  Lucy looked at her counterpart who, as usual, _wouldn’t answer the damn question_.    
  
Her future self just stared back, maddeningly expressionless.  
  
“Are you seriously not going to tell me?”  
  
She still didn’t reply, but the look on her face made it clear that she had no intention of answering the question.  
  
“‘Cause she told me December, and that doesn't make any sense... it's already May.  Some crazy time travel bullshit happening there?”  Sending no change in her future self’s demeanor, she thought for a moment, and - a memory niggling at the back of her mind - tried another tack.  “Why didn’t you want me to get my cheek checked out?”  
  
“What?” Future Lucy said, drawing back.  
  
“On the night you arrived.  Agent Christopher wanted me to go get it x-rayed.  Reading about Curie made me remember.  You were weirdly against it.  It's been bugging me ever since.”  
  
Her future self shrugged, an attempt to be deceptively light failing miserably.  Because it was _herself_ , and she could spot her own tells a million miles away. “Because you didn’t need it.  I had the exact same injury, going to the hospital was a giant waste of time that only served to stress everybody out.”  
  
“Really,” Lucy replied flatly.  “It seemed like there was more to it than that.”  
  
Future Lucy looked back at her and shrugged.  “What more can I say?”  
  
“The truth?”  
  
Her future self looked torn, like there was something she so badly wanted to say.  Finally, hesitatingly - “Have you ever had an x-ray?”  
  
“Yeah, when I was 17.  I broke my arm on a ski trip.”  A pause and then, “Why are you asking me that?  _You_ broke your arm at 17 on a ski trip!”  
  
“Yeah.”  She paused and then started to talk, stopped, started again.  “So you know the first thing…”  She stopped again.  “I’m sorry, I can’t.  I really really can’t.  It’s - this can’t come from me.”  
  
“You are me,” Lucy replied tersely, beyond frustrated now.  “What is it that you know that you can’t tell me?”  
  
Future Lucy just stared back at her, regret and apologies on her face.  “Five years worth of things you shouldn’t yet know.”  The expression on her face finished for her, _hopefully won’t ever have to know._  
  
Lucy snorted.  “Yeah, but this is something weirdly specific.”  _The first thing_ , Lucy thought?  _I mean, the first thing they ask you is if there’s any possibility_ —  She stumbled back, her eyes wide in shock, thankful to find the solid rings of the Lifeboat six inches behind her.  “You didn’t want me to get an x-ray because they’d ask if there’s a chance that I was pregnant?”  
  
Her future counterpart sent her an apologetic smile.  “Turns out they make you take a test right then and there if you say yes.”

* * *

_The x-ray tech had her lay back, drug the machine by its handle until it swung over her.  He grabbed the heavy lead apron off the peg on the wall and went to put it over her.  Then he hesitated.  “Just realized I missed collecting one piece of information, ma'am, just standard protocol, but I do have to check before we begin.”  He walked over to his forms, setting the apron on the counter and flipping through them to the question that had apparently been missed.  “Is there any chance that you could be pregnant?”_  
  
_Lucy’s breath caught in her throat.  That was not the question she had been expecting.  She turned to Agent Christopher - “How long’s it been since 1941?”  Seeing the confused expression on the agent’s face, she continued.  “Since Hollywood, Citizen Kane, since, since Hedy Lamarr - how long’s it been?”_  
  
_Agent Christopher still looked puzzled.  “Six weeks or so, why?”_  
  
_Shit.  With everything - Rittenhouse, the jumps, Jessica, Rufus’ death - she’d completely lost track of time... and failed to notice that she was late.  Very, very late._  
  
_Looking back at the tech, she gave him a small nod.  “Yes,” she said, “It’s possible.”_  
  
_She tried to ignore the small gasp behind her as the tech nodded curtly.  “I’ll be right back.”_  
  
_Lucy followed him to the door with her eyes, watching as he shut it.  She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and then turned to Agent Christopher._  
  
_And found nothing but concern and support.  (Not that she really expected any less)._  
  
_“Does he know?” she asked, and Lucy snorted._  
  
__"I _don’t even know,” she replied.  “I didn’t realize how long it had been.  Time... Time in that bunker is kinda messed up for us.  I didn’t even realize I was late.”_  
  
_Agent Christopher’s brow furrowed again.  “It is—“_  
  
_“Wyatt’s, yeah.  If there is one.”  A beat and then, “It was just - right before Jessica came back.  We’d been dancing around it for so long...”  She snorted.  “Story of my life, anymore, it seems.”  Another beat and then, “I don’t know how I’m going to tell him.”_  
  
__"If _there’s anything to tell him about.”_  
  
_Lucy sent her a half a smile.  “I just about lost my lunch when we landed back at the bunker this afternoon.  I put it off to Jiya’s piloting, grief about Rufus, but...”  She trailed off again.  “This is such a mess.”_

* * *

Lucy felt like there was a literal elephant sitting on her - the simple act of breathing taking far more work than it should.  “And if that test says yes?”  
  
“Then it throws a hell of a wrench into your already-messy relationship.  Or lack thereof.  Which,” she paused, thinking again, then seeming to throw caution to the wind, “Makes it hard as hell to know if the guy who’s supposed to be choosing you is doing so because he wants to, or out of some sort of messed up sense of loyalty.  And when you're choosing the rest of your life…”  
  
Lucy’s brow furrowed.  “It looks like it worked out fine.”  
  
“Fine is… Fine is how it looks five years later, maybe.  But it was years - _years_ to get there, when a couple of weeks and a couple of missions could make you realize that he’s choosing you for you, not for any other reason.”  She paused and considered before continuing, clearly against her better judgment.  “I _know_ he loves me.  And that he’s chosen me, after everything, that he’s chosen me again and again.  But there are still those moments, those dark corners of the mind that whisper, occasionally - at those junctures, at those crucial moments where he had to choose… if there hadn’t been Rosie, would he still have chosen me?”  Pausing once more, she looked down, shook her head.  Then she looked Lucy in the eye, her gaze so serious Lucy almost wanted to shrink away.  “So if you're still not sure, right now, today?  Then wait.  Wait to tell him until you're sure.”    
  
Lucy grew angry, scowling at her future counterpart.  “Didn't you think I had the right to know this?  What made you think you had the right to hide it from me?”  
  
Future Lucy rolled her eyes.  “I didn't hide _anything_ from you.  We showed up with a little girl who is _just the right age_ to be from 1941.  Who calls us Mom and Dad.  Who looks just like us.  I thought you'd put it together within the first day - hell, I thought for sure you'd get it when Wyatt cracked that joke about ‘And so ends our night’… with Rosie.  Or the fact that she's named after Citizen Kane - _and_ our sister.  Or the fact that your breakfast threatens to relocate every time the Lifeboat launches.  We never, ever said anything about who she was, or who she wasn't, or who she belonged to, or when she was from.  You assumed - you assumed _so much_ \- but you never asked and despite what you think, it really wasn't my place to tell you.”  
  
Lucy paused, chewed on her words, digested what she said.  Finally, quietly, she came forward with a question - “Are you happy?”  
  
Future Lucy sent her a sad smile.  “Happy as one can be when they're raising their kid half in a barn and half in a time machine.”  She thought for a minute, and then, “I’d like a more stable existence for her.  We both would.  She's not too bothered now, but she's little.  We can't hide her forever.  If I'd known everything I know now five years ago… we would have been a little more careful.  It was so irresponsible to bring her into this.”  She paused again, brightened slightly,  “But then again, she’s the best thing to ever happen to me.  Hands down, beats Wyatt and he knows it.  I'm not as showy as he is, not as fun as he is, but that kid is my whole entire world and all of the things we do, we do for her.”    
  
She was silent for a moment and Lucy went to speak, but her future self held up a finger to add a coda.  “We’re gonna ask you to do some things coming up that seem pretty scary, pretty tough.  And when we ask you - and when you think that we’re completely, totally out of our minds crazy - that's what I want you to remember.  That I've lived five more years of this madness than you and every single thing I've done in that time has been for my daughter.”  She paused, chewing on her words again as she left Lucy to ruminate on what she'd shared before adding.  “As life moves on and you ask yourself, again, what you're fighting for?  It's not a betrayal of Amy if some names get added to that list.”  
  
Lucy sat without an answer for that.  She might have come up with one if the guys hadn't come trudging up the path just then, both Wyatts looking between them with some degree of concern - though her own Wyatt’s look of confusion stood in stark contrast with his future counterpart’s clear realization of the conversation that had just transpired.  
  
She ignored them both to turn her focus towards Flynn.  “Is it done?”  
  
He nodded curtly.  “Two future goons, dead.  Five years ago I never could have pulled the trigger, but today?  It was for Iris and Lorena.  For my wife, for my daughter, I would do anything.”  
  
And suddenly, _suddenly_ it all made sense, what she'd been wondering for two years, why future-her would pick Flynn - why Flynn would insist that they should understand each other.  Which, she realized with a start, meant that Flynn had known all along that this would transpire.  He'd known, and he hadn't breathed a word.  He knew _right now_ , and so did her future counterpart.  And Future Wyatt.  Everybody but her own Wyatt - and her future self really wanted her to wait to tell him?  As if that wasn’t a powder keg just waiting to go off.  
  
Although they'd all managed to keep it a secret thus far.  
  
“Rosie’s napping?” Future Wyatt asked, standing on tip-toe to peer in the hatch of the Lifeboat.    
  
“Curled up with her books,” she heard her future counterpart reply.  “Might have conked out by now.”  Lucy didn't turn to look at her; she was too focused on the expression on Future Wyatt’s face as he protectively checked on the little girl sleeping on a blanket on the floor of a time machine in 1973.  
  
He turned to the duo.  “You two have a good visit?” The girls nodded, and he continued.  “What were you talking about?”  
  
“Oh, just how precious your daughter is,” Lucy said, forcing a light laugh.  “She had me reading about Curie and Einstein.  Smart kid!”  
  
“Yeah well,” Future Wyatt said with a shrug, “She takes after her Mom.”  
  
Lucy felt herself blushing at the compliment, which was absurd; it was meant from Wyatt-but-not-her-Wyatt to her-but-not-her.  So she blushed more from embarrassment, and the amused expression on Future Wyatt’s face made her wish the ground would open up and swallow her whole.  Her own Wyatt looked at the exchange curiously, like he wasn’t quite getting the joke.  And he wasn't; he might have caught it if he realized she was the mother in question, but that, apparently, wasn't his to know yet.  
  
So she'd carry that secret back with her - much like the other things she was carrying, apparently - at least until she could get it confirmed.  Not that she didn't trust her future self, but well - this wasn't exactly something you took someone’s word on.    
  
“All right, let’s get back to 2018,” Future Wyatt declared, swinging a leg up and climbing into the ship like it was nothing.  Lucy followed, scrambling halfway up the rings, pausing with one foot in the hatch as Future Wyatt tucked Rosie into his shoulder.  He moved her cushion back to her chair and sat the little girl down, a hand holding her steady, before nodding to Lucy.  She climbed into the Lifeboat, hitting the hatch switch behind her.  Future Wyatt was still crouched in the space between their chairs, so she perched awkwardly on the side of hers, awaiting his finish.  
  
He glanced over at her.  “She finally spilled, huh?”  
  
She chuckled. “Actually, Rosie kinda did.  Didn't leave her with much choice.  I was gonna go through the roof if I didn't get some answers.”  
  
“And now?”  
  
She sent him a soft smile.  “Now I get to figure out prenatal care from inside a secret military bunker.”  
  
Future Wyatt turned back to his task at hand.  “I know she wonders, sometimes,” Future Wyatt said, as he tucked blankets around Rosie to keep her upright for the trip home, “If I would have chosen her if it hadn’t been for Rosie.  I’ve told her so many times that I would have, but there’s that self-doubt that was put there by her mom - by _your_ mom,” he said, turning in his crouch to look at Lucy.  “Nothing was ever quite good enough, nothing she wanted was ever quite the right choice… and in the end Lucy wasn’t enough for her.  It makes it hard for her to believe that anyone would choose her unconditionally.  I know how badly I screwed up all those years ago, and I wish more than anything I could go back and erase it.  I’ve thought about it, even, taking the Lifeboat and going back to try to erase it…”  He trailed off.  “But what we’ve gone through is what makes us who we are, and it feels false to pretend it didn’t happen.  But even if Rosie hadn’t happened, even if Jessica’d really been pregnant - I still would have chosen her.  It would have been messy, it would have been hard, I probably would have kept screwing up - but I still would have chosen her.”  He paused, looking Lucy straight in the eye.  “I hope you know that about your Wyatt.  Don’t doubt it.  I know Lucy’s told you to wait to tell him about Rosie - we don’t really agree on that, but I get why she thinks you should - but whatever you decide, know that he’d choose you regardless.”  
  
He didn’t wait for a response, climbing into the pilot’s seat and beginning the sequence for launch.

* * *

The landing was no less jarring than the last few had been, and Lucy closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing through her nose until the nausea passed.  Well, that was one mystery solved, at least.  
  
She opened her eyes to find Future Wyatt swung around in his chair, eyeing her with concern.  “You okay?”  
  
Lucy nodded.  “It just lasts a second.  Thought it was weird that I'd started having issues after all this time.  I mean, there's always some queasiness, but never like this. Figured your Lifeboat just hated me.”  
  
He chuckled.  “Afraid this one’s a slightly more typical explanation.  Sorry about that, by the way.  It'll get worse before it gets better.”  
  
“Fabulous,” she replied.  But any biting sarcasm that might have persisted melted away as her eyes fell on the little girl in front of her; the annoyance of nausea paled in comparison to the end result.  
  
She climbed out of the Lifeboat, cautiously descending the metal steps someone had rolled into place.  Shit - how many spills had she taken since Hollywood, anyways?  The knife wound, the drinking, her fight with Emma - it was a miracle that Rosie had turned out okay.  
  
She was pulled out of her thoughts by Agent Christopher approaching the ships, checking her watch anxiously.  “Oh good, you're back,” she said, as she watched Flynn emerge from the other Lifeboat.  “Lorena called.  She said to let you know that dinner will be on the table at 6.  She needs you to run Iris to ballet at 7, she had a CCD meeting crop up at church that she needs to attend.  She was hoping you'd be back in time.”  
  
Flynn stared at her, wide-eyed.  “They're… alive?”  
  
“Of course they're alive,” Agent Christopher said, looking at Flynn as if he'd gone mad, “and you know how frustrated she gets when our work here makes you late for dinner.”  Scanning the astonished faces of the crowd, her brow furrowed.  “Were they… not alive?”  
  
Judging from the astonished look on his face and subsequent silence, Flynn must have found himself incapable of answering.  
  
Instead Wyatt piped up.  “It means it worked,” he said, “that we were able to save them.”  Turning to Agent Christopher, he continued.  “In our timeline, they'd been murdered.”    
  
“Murdered!  I can assure you they're at no risk, not with so much of Rittenhouse beyond bars.  Still, I'd be happy to double their security detail—”  
  
Flynn shook his head.  “Four years ago.  There was an attack… they went into hiding?”  
  
Agent Christopher nodded.  
  
“In our timeline, they didn't survive.”  
  
Agent Christopher sucked in a breath; clearly affected by this bit of news.  “I'm so sorry,” she replied, looking as if she wanted to reach out and comfort him but making no such move.  
  
Flynn nodded curtly.  “Thank you.”    
  
He began to stride off, but Future Lucy called out to him.  “Flynn, wait.”  He spun around, eyeing her suspiciously.  “Don't leave them,” she said, an almost pleading tone to her voice.  “They know nothing of what you've done.  Don't punish them for it.  They uh—” she cast a glance at Future Wyatt, “If the alternative is losing you, they'd forgive it.”  
  
“I'm afraid that's not true,” Flynn replied, shaking his head.  “What I've done — it's unforgivable.”  
  
“And that's your cross to bear,” Future Wyatt piped up.  “But don't make your family pay for it.”  
  
Flynn lapsed into silence, looking as if he might be considering their words.  His eyes darted from Future Wyatt to Future Lucy and back before finally settling on the little girl in Future Wyatt’s arms.  Before he could reply, however, Future Wyatt continued.  
  
“I can't speak to what kind of husband you were.  But as far as a father… I know how much you - Future You - helped me get my head screwed on right when it came to her,” he said, nodding towards the little girl on his hip. “My daughter has benefited from the kind of father you are.  Iris deserves that, too.”  
  
Flynn nodded curtly.  “I'll take that under advisement, Master Sergeant.”  
  
Future Wyatt chuckled, nodding towards his present-day counterpart.  “That's him, not me.  Not for a long time now.”  He paused and then, “Five years is a long time, Flynn.  It would be a lie to say we were friends, but - I think we’d come to respect each other by the end, by the last time we did this.  By then, we’d convinced you that leaving wasn't in their best interest.  I hope you'll listen to us this time, too.”  
  
“As I said, I'll take it under advisement,” he replied, but the bite was gone from his tone and he sounded as if he might genuinely consider it.  From there he turned and headed into his room to gather his meager few belongings; Agent Christopher called after him that there would be a car waiting at the top of the ladder whenever he was ready.    
  
As Flynn disappeared into his room, Future Lucy stepped over to where her Wyatt stood, reaching up to place a hand on his cheek.  They locked eyes for a moment before she moved her hand to Rosie’s head, ruffling her hair.  She turned to Lucy, nodding her head in Flynn’s direction.  “Iris was not even a year older than Rosie.”  She paused, biting her lip and staring off into space before looking back at Lucy and shaking her head.  “I can't even imagine.”  
  
Lifting the little girl off of Wyatt’s hip, she wrapped her in her arms and closed her eyes for a brief moment.  Lucy watched as her future counterpart composed herself, giving Rosie a quick squeeze before putting her down, leaving her to scamper off, Future Wyatt trailing behind.  Turning back to Lucy, her future counterpart continued.  “Having her has shed a whole new light on his actions.  It's a whole different perspective, knowing what it feels like to have your whole family evaporate before your eyes, knowing that danger like we do.  But looking at my daughter - Wyatt - and thinking what I would do if it had been me?  If I’d lost them the way he lost his family?  Can't say I wouldn't have made the same choices.”  The corner of her mouth lifted in a half-smile and she shrugged.  “Maybe a little less murder.  But after all that we’ve done over the last seven years?  It's pretty damn hard to judge anymore.”

* * *

After the group broke apart, Lucy found Agent Christopher, pulled her aside in the corner of the kitchen.  “Can you get some things for me tonight while you're out?”  She would have preferred another route - any other route - but unless she wanted to steal a test when they jumped to ‘79 tomorrow, she didn't have a lot of other options.  
  
“Sure, Lucy, anything, you know that.  What can I get you, some chocolate, a couple of books to read, a new toothbrush—”  
  
“A pregnancy test?” Lucy asked quietly, very quietly, after glancing around to make sure no one else was in earshot.  So quietly, in fact, that she wasn't sure if Agent Christopher heard her.  “Can you - can you make that happen for me?”  
  
“Of course.”  Her face was expressionless, decades of field training overshadowing any shock or upset she might feel.  At least temporarily; there was a softness in her eyes and she pulled Lucy into a hug.  “Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Lucy replied, surprised at the honesty in her answer.  “Or at least I think I will be.  I think _we_ will be.”    
  
Denise nodded, letting Lucy out of her grip.  As she leaned back, she glanced around again before speaking.  “Oh, and - one more thing.  Wyatt doesn't know yet and I - I’d like it to stay that way.  I'm not ready to tell him yet.”    
  
Denise nodded again and Lucy found herself thankful for the agent’s motherliness.    This was awkward, sure, but could have been so much worse if they'd been assigned another agent, one that she hadn't come to consider family.  Denise would, at least, worry more about her well-being than about the resulting paperwork, and handle the situation with discretion… as well as ensuring she had everything she needed moving forward.    
  
As for the rest, well… it would sort itself out… eventually.  For the moment, maybe she'd defer to Wyatt’s favorite motto… one problem at a time.  Keeping him in the dark seemed massively unfair - and completely against her nature - but she needed to know for sure, see it herself in black and white, before she could even broach the subject.  Even if learning that Rosie was hers made so many pieces fall into place - that she already existed, _had_ existed since 1941 - she worked best with cold, hard facts.  Until she was sure, completely sure, she'd hold off on that conversation - just for a little while longer.  
  
And then?  Then she just had to hope his feelings on the situation matched her own.


	7. Chapter 7

For nearly two incredibly long years Lucy had done everything she’d done in pursuit of getting her sister back.  If anyone had told her that she’d spend the morning of that long-awaited day beside herself with distraction about another matter entirely, she never would have believed them.  She never would have thought that anything could distract her from getting Amy back.  
  
Then again, she never would have thought she’d be trying to smuggle a pregnancy test out of a bathroom she shared with eight other people, either.  
  
She’d tucked the test into her roll of clothes, then padded down the hall to the room that until yesterday had been Flynn’s, thanking the fates that he’d moved out just in time for her to have the privacy she so desperately needed in this moment.  She shut the door just as her phone alarm buzzed in her back pocket and she dumped the clothes onto the bed, the test rolling out and landing face-down in an unassuming tangle of sheets.  She steeled herself, sucked in a breath, and flipped it over - finding the two lines, as expected, staring her right in the face.  
  
The fact that she’d expected it didn’t lessen the emotional punch.  Tears sprung to her eyes and she grabbed the trashcan, the queasiness that was fast becoming a constant companion threatening to spill over into it.  She sat back on the bed, the can at her feet, and glanced over again at the test.  Still two lines.  She’d known it would be - _her future self_ had told her it would be - but it was a whole different thing to see it starkly sitting there, the thin lines holding her _entire_ future.  
  
Except that they didn’t.  Her mind went back to the day’s mission - Amy - which held claim to a stake of her future, too.  She’d need to tuck this away - both literally and figuratively - and focus on the mission.  Moreso than any of the other jumps she’d taken, she needed her mind in the game.  They were supposed to have done this before, a year or more prior, and her mother had messed that up.  Lucy couldn't be responsible for messing it up again.  Amy deserved for her to keep her head in the game, so her kid - well, guess that would have to wait a little bit longer.  
  
She tucked it away long enough to walk into the common area, see Rosie and the Lifeboat, and have her thoughts disobediently spring to life again.  She glanced warily at the time machine; was it even _safe_ to go get Amy?  It's not like there were scholarly articles on the effect of time travel on unborn children.  But a glance back at Rosie provided the only available evidence on the subject, and if the little girl trying valiantly to string Cheerios onto a toothpick was any indicator, it must be reasonably safe.  
  
Still, she sought out her future counterpart, feeding English muffins into the toaster, and stood beside her, busying herself with washing the few dishes in the sink.  “Hey, so,” she started, low and quiet, not sure why she felt so nervous to ask this of _herself_ , who certainly already knew, “Is it, y’know, _safe_ for me to go get Amy today?”  
  
Her future self looked at her, raised an amused eyebrow.  “How many times have you jumped since 1941?”  
  
Lucy blew out a breath.  “I dunno, six, eight?”  
  
“How many times do you think _I_ jumped?”  
  
“More than that?”  
  
Future Lucy shot a glance over her shoulder at Rosie - fingers now covered in milk from her cereal-eating escapade - before answering her younger counterpart.  “Do you really think I'd let you go if it wasn't?”  
  
She walked away then, leaving Lucy with a sink full of soapy water and a calmer sense of the day.  _And_ a milk-covered four year old, Lucy realized about thirty seconds later, when her future self had disappeared into the bathroom and Rosie set her eyes on her, holding milk-dripping fingers in front of her and wrinkling her nose in a way that was _so Wyatt_ it stopped her in her tracks.    
  
“You got a napkin?” Rosie asked, and for the first time Lucy saw her, really saw her, Wyatt’s expression on her tiny face, framed in her own dark curls and — _oh shit_.  
  
They were not equipped for this.  _She_ was not equipped for this.  As evidenced by Rosie, looking disdainfully at the milk droplets making their way down her arms, still awaiting that napkin.  “Please?”  
  
Lucy snapped into action, grabbing a paper towel from the holder next to the sink and dipping the corner in the soapy water.  She chased the milk trail back up Rosie’s arms, wiping her tiny fingers as Rosie watched her intently.  As she finished, the little girl’s sunny smile returned - and how did she turn out so sweet, anyways?  With her need for control and Wyatt’s broodiness - yet somehow this tiny girl just hopped down from the chair, tossed her arms haphazardly about Lucy’s waist, chirped “Thanks!” and flitted off to who-knows-where in the bunker like none of this was even remotely peculiar.  
  
Still, watching after her, Lucy realized she'd move worlds, destroy every timeline in existence, if that's what it took to keep that sweet, innocent smile on that tiny, precious face.  
  
_She was sunk_.

* * *

Wyatt appeared just then, hair still slightly damp as if he'd just gotten out of the shower, barefoot and clad in jeans and a white tee-shirt, like he hadn't quite finished getting dressed before ceding the bathroom to the next bunker occupant.  Rosie managed to run headlong into his legs and he froze, stunned, but the little girl only giggled.    
  
“Oops, sorry Da—”  She glanced up, realizing the legs weren't quite as familiar as she'd thought, and amended her statement.  “Oops, sorry!”  
  
And as she fled to where Jiya was sitting, working on equations or coding of some sort, Wyatt’s eyes followed her, his face holding an expression that she imagined mirrored the one held on her own face just moments ago.  
  
It gobsmacked her to realize _how badly_ she wanted this, wanted to spend her days wiping milk-covered fingers and listening to that tiny giggle and watching her husband wander barefoot around their — and oh, shit, where had that come from?  
  
Her future self had worried she'd feel like he was only choosing her for Rosie, but maybe she should have worried the other way around.  Logically, she knew that she could have her child without choosing its father, but she didn't _want_ to.  And she was still hurt, yeah, but she'd said her piece and he'd made his apologies and there was nothing to be gained by hanging onto that anger.  What was done was done, and she had the opportunity to make her own future - as Amy had told her in the kitchen on that night so long ago.  
  
She hoped her sister would be proud of her.  She'd spent the last two years being so un-Lucy Preston - the crazy, daring adventures being much more Amy’s style than her own.  It had left her future far different than the one she'd envisioned prior to that night, the one of the tenured history professor, maybe eventually a bright, scholarly boyfriend - maybe, if she were lucky, maybe a couple of kids and a white picket fence.  It didn't include being surrounded by guns and bombs and danger, didn't include living in an underground bunker, and definitely didn't include falling for an impulsive, inadvertently married soldier.  
  
Lost deep in her thoughts, she'd missed Wyatt’s arrival in the kitchen until he pulled her from her reverie with a “Hey.”  And all at once her world stopped spinning, her upward spiral into chaos immediately arrested by his simple presence.  He was one of only two people to ever have that effect on her, to ground her when her mind raced on ahead, carrying her along with it into all but hysteria.  
  
It was time to go get the other one.  
  
“Hey,” she replied, reaching in to pop the drain plug, flipping on the water to rinse the suds from her hands.  
  
“Want some toast or something?”  
  
She was poised to say no, to decline the offer, reject it as she’d grown accustomed to rejecting everything from him - but given her latest epiphany, maybe she ought to take the olive branch.  Besides, toast was about the only thing she thought her traitorous stomach might tolerate right now.  
  
“Sure, toast’d be great.  Just dry.”  
  
She moved to the table as he chuckled.  “Nerves about Amy?”  
  
“Yeah.”  Yeah, sure, that was part of it.  
  
She watched as he moved around the kitchen, preparing his breakfast and hers, not helping her growing longing for the permanency of this domestic bliss.  His own muffin was done first, and he set it in the spot across from her.  He grabbed the butter and peanut butter, placing them on the table, then went back for her toast.  She watched as he plated it, grabbing a knife and slicing in into tidy triangles before sliding the plate in front of her.  It was a tiny, sweet, gesture, designed to make it easier for her to nibble at the corners, and as he settled across from her, she couldn’t help but feel a small smile crack her face at the thought of the brusque, impulsive solider she’d met in 1937 as _sweet_.  But she’d seen it time and again, if not in his interactions with her and Rufus, then certainly in how his future self was with the little girl she could just catch out of the corner of her eye, peering over Jiya’s elbow.  
  
The little girl there was absolutely no way she could keep a secret from him - no matter what her future self had advocated for.  
  
“Fifteen minutes ‘til jump, guys,” Rufus’ voice rang out, and the moment was broken.  Lucy nodded, returning to picking at her toast in earnest as Wyatt popped the last bite of his muffin into his mouth and slid his plate into the sink.  “You ready?”  
  
She nodded, her enthusiasm torn.  Ready to get her sister back, always.  But she found herself secretly wishing for just a little more time - time to talk to Wyatt, maybe even her future self - time to wrap her brain around the thought that _this was it_ and steel herself for the possibility that it might not work.  But there was no delaying, and so she dumped the rest of her toast in the trash and rinsed her hands before wandering into the launch bay in order to meet with the rest of the team.  
  
She'd owe Amy a thousand, million apologies some day - her mind was definitely not as focused on the mission as she deserved.  

* * *

She met their future counterparts in the launch bay, probably looking as distracted as she felt.  “You okay?” her future self asked softly, taking advantage of the fact that Wyatt had not yet arrived.  
  
“Yeah, I—”  Her eyes drifted to the little girl poking at a crack in the concrete a few feet away, then back to her future self.  “Yeah.”  
  
Future Her nodded, then glanced at Wyatt as he approached before moving her gaze to his future counterpart.  “Ready to go save your sister-in-law?”  
  
Almost instantly, Future Lucy must have realized what she'd done, her eyes growing wide.  Wyatt’s future counterpart rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation.  “Lucy!  Seriously?  Are we just spilling everything now?”  
  
Future Lucy ignored his inquiry, as if she hadn't heard him, turning instead towards her present-day counterpart and bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet.  “You ready for this?”  
  
Lucy felt like she was two steps behind, like her emotions couldn't keep up with the rapidly changing revelations.  She was still grappling with Rosie, and her future self wanted her to zip right past an insinuation that their future selves were married and straight to saving Amy?  It was a little too much, too rapid-fire, and she felt like her brain was short-circuiting on information overload.  
  
“Sister in law?” she managed to squeak out, and her future self rolled her eyes.  
  
“Amy - you know, the sister you've spent every day of the last couple years trying to save?  You ready to go or what?”  
  
Her future self was really starting to piss her off with the half-assed subterfuge.  
  
The same appeared to be true of Future Wyatt.  “C’mon, Luce, that's not fair.  You can't do that to them.  Do you really think they'd be shocked we got hitched?  It's been five years and we’ve got a kid - it’s not exactly a mind-blower.”  
  
Lucy begged to differ, and judging from a glance at her Wyatt, he felt the same.  It was just a detail, sure - a technicality, really, given how blindingly obvious it was that they were together - but still.  Married was a whole lot different than five more years of the murky limbo they'd lived in for the last two.  
  
“I… it, it kind of is,” Lucy stammered, glancing from Future Wyatt to her future counterpart and back.  She moved her gaze to Wyatt, raising an eyebrow, asking him to back her up.  
  
“Uh huh,” he replied, looking equally shell-shocked.  
  
“Five years, guys,” Future Lucy replied.  “It's been a minute.” She shook her head.  “That’s us, though, not you - like we've talked about.  Our history isn't necessarily your future.”  A pause and then, as she grinned, “If it's something you're considering, though, I'd highly recommend it.”  
  
Lucy glanced at Wyatt, then back at her future self.  “Uh… thanks?”  
  
Future Lucy just grinned maddeningly back at her, while Wyatt’s future counterpart looked like he wanted to roll his eyes again in exasperation.  Instead he shook his head, then set his sights on the little girl amusing herself in the corner.  “C’mon Ro,” he said, and she scampered over immediately.  “You ready to fly, babydoll?”  
  
She grinned back at him.  “Always!”  
  
“So what's the plan here?” Lucy asked, looking between their future counterparts.  
  
Future Wyatt answered as he lifted Rosie onto the rings.  “We find Lucy’s parents, get them to cross paths.  Things should get back on track from there.”  
  
Lucy blinked at Future Wyatt.  “After everything, it's really going to be that easy?”  
  
Future Lucy raised an eyebrow.  “If by ‘easy’ you mean the six jumps it's taken to put all of the puzzle pieces in place, most of those with a preschooler in tow and one of which erased our existence as we knew it - then yes, it'll really be that easy.”  She paused, softened a bit, and then continued.  “It does seem rather anticlimactic, doesn't it.”  
  
Lucy nodded.  “Absolutely.”  A pause and then, “There's not a chance he's married Irene’s granddaughter already, is there?”  
  
Future Lucy shook her head.  “The granddaughter’s been taken care of.”    
  
Lucy could feel her eyes widening in horror as she contemplated the insinuation.  Her future counterpart, however, caught her expression and chuckled as she continued.  “Not like that!  We found her a nice young man who would have died a bachelor otherwise, nudged them together.  Probably created some kids who shouldn't have existed, but…”  Future Lucy shrugged, and Lucy was fascinated by her blasé attitude towards the history she'd been commissioned to protect. Bouncing on the balls of her feet again, she looked to Lucy.  “You ready to do this?”  
  
Smashing down her apprehension, Lucy nodded.  “Let’s go.”

* * *

Lucy was beginning to lose count of how many times she'd sat awkwardly opposite Rosie, staring at the little girl in silence, feeling like she should say something but not knowing where to start.  Luckily Rosie seemed unfazed by the awkwardness, maybe - probably - because Lucy wasn't at all unfamiliar to her.  
  
Because, you know.  _Her mom._  
  
Rosie also seemed to have inherited her gift of gab, so even as Lucy stared at her - because how exactly do you talk to your kid from the future? - she flashed a grin.  “Can you tell me ‘bout Aunt Amy?  Mommy says you know her, too.”  
  
Amy, at least, she could talk about.  
  
“Sure do,” Lucy replied, and Rosie’s grin grew wider.  “She's my sister.  And she's so much fun, way more fun than me.  You guys will get along great.”  
  
Rosie wrinkled her nose.  “She's your sister and Mommy’s sister, too?”  
  
Lucy laughed.  “I know, confusing, right?”  
  
Never mind that they'd have to explain that to Amy… _if_ they were successful.  
  
The Lifeboat began to shudder and the jump was just like the rest - Rosie’s giggles, her own nausea, and so on.  The latter of which she could swear was getting worse each jump - but maybe that was just a result of acknowledging it now.  In any case, she was still able to breathe through it, managing to force a smile at Future Wyatt when he swung around to check on her.  She didn't need to be smothered by him.  Her own Wyatt would be bad enough once he found out.  
  
Future Wyatt had put them down in a small clearing just behind the stadium, far enough back from Tightwad Hill that the chance of the Lifeboats being spotted was low.  She was thankful for the geography, their landing location leaving them with just a short walk to campus.  Once everyone had hopped out, they decided in short order to split up.  The plan was for each team to find one of her parents and then rendezvous in a few hours to ensure they'd put them in each other's path.    
  
Which is how she found herself wandering the campus of late 70s UC Berkeley with Wyatt by her side.  Not exactly how she'd envisioned introducing him to the world of academia, that's for sure.  
  
Her parents had initially met when her mom was doing research at the library where her dad worked - but one of Emma’s many manipulations had derailed that, apparently, managing to get him placed in the science library instead of the main branch.  So they found a campus map, located the Life Sciences building, and started walking.  
  
It was silent for a few minutes, giving Lucy’s thoughts time to churn and her nerves to build.  Secret-keeping was not her strong suit; it always felt like a lie of omission and one thing she'd always tried to be with Wyatt was honest.  And so, despite the setting being far from ideal, she started —  
  
“So, Rosie—”  
  
He grinned.  “She's really something, Luce.  I was watching her this morning - can't believe how much she reminds me of you.  Her mannerisms, her facial expressions - guess it’s one for the good ol’ nature vs nurture discussion, huh?”  
  
She smiled tightly.  “Yeah, uh—”  
  
“Hey, that's the life sciences building up there, right?” he asked, interrupting her and pointing to a building ahead on their right.  
  
And the moment had passed.  She sighed internally.  “Yep.”  
  
“Looks historic.”  
  
Narrowing her eyes, she peered over at him.  “Wyatt Logan, are you fishing for a lesson?  Or have my tendencies just rubbed off on you that much.”  
  
He shrugged with false innocence.  “Don't know what you're talking about, Professor.”  
  
“Well if you must know,” she said, “the building was built in the late 20s, opening in 1930.  It was state of the art at the time.  They remodeled in the 90s, filled in the courtyard - but today you'll get to see it in all of its original glory.”  
  
He grinned.  “ _You'll_ get to see it in all of its original glory.”  
  
She rolled her eyes.  “All right, all right, I guess.”  A pause and then, “It's a _very_ cool building.  One of the biggest in the country when it was built.”  
  
She followed Wyatt up the stone steps and he pulled the heavy glass door open, gesturing for her to step through ahead of him.  They stepped into the lobby, quickly locating signage that the library was on the second floor.    
  
Walking through the enormous building, they passed a variety of departments and classrooms.  Shortly, they stumbled upon an auditorium, rear door propped open, lecture in progress.  Lucy hesitated, briefly observing the professor, his booming voice detailing the relevance of applying the scientific method in everyday life.  
  
Suddenly she felt Wyatt’s hand gently drift to the small of her back.  “Do you miss it?”  
  
“Sometimes,” she shrugged, giving the auditorium one last wistful glance before starting to walk again.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“It's, uh… this job has its perks, too,” she said, shooting him a shy smile.  
  
“Sure - can't decide whether the underground bunker or constant firefights are the bigger draw.  Should definitely put both of those in the recruitment brochure.”  
  
She bumped him with her hip.  “Nah, but the company’s not too shabby.”  
  
He smiled back at her.  “Once we get out in the real world, would you want to go back?”  
  
Lucy pondered for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth.  “It… would be an adjustment,” she started.  “Not just the schedule or the predictable lifestyle, but even the actual history - we’ve changed so much.  I could just see myself standing in front of a lecture hall and messing up something like the date of the Alamo and having a whole section’s worth of students lose trust in anything I had to say.  Even if the stuff we had a hand in is forever seared into my brain, there's no telling what butterfly effects may have happened to some other event I thought I knew.”  
  
“You could learn it again,” he said, not a question, but a statement of confidence.  
  
“I could,” she replied.  “And I will.  But it will be an adjustment.”  A pause, as she thought, and then continued, “Plus… if this ever all ends… if we ever get back to our normal lives… it's not like my life will look anything like it did before it all began.  Then, it was me, Amy, my sick mom, and my career.  Now?  Even if we’re able to get Amy back—”  
  
“We will,” he said, interrupting her.  “If not this trip, then we’ll keep trying until it works.”  
  
She smiled at him, as if she knew what he was trying to do - and appreciated it - but kept going without acknowledgement.  “There's more to factor in now.  Your career, and—”  She hesitated, briefly, thought and then plunged forward “—daycare, and soccer, or ballet, or whatever, it's — it's not just what I want anymore.”  
  
His brow furrowed.  “You shouldn't have to give up your dreams because of that, Luce,” he said softly, sincerely, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze.  “You should get everything you want out of life.  Tenure… everything.”  
  
She squeezed back, sending him a gentle smile.  “Nobody said anything about giving up dreams.  Just… maybe making some tweaks as to what they are.  They've changed since all of this started - two or three times, honestly.  Tenure’s still there, but it’s not alone - things that I didn't even know I wanted make the list now.  Like Amy.  And can you imagine how different _hers_ are, five years down the road?  Who knows what I’ll want once this all ends.”  
  
“I want you to have them,” he said, earnestly.  “Whatever you decide they are.  Whatever I can do to support you - just say the word and I'm there.  Whatever happens to us, wherever we end up - we’ll make it work.”  
  
“Thank you,” she replied softly, sincerely - what else was she supposed to say?  She couldn't very well elaborate right now, and it wasn't fair to have a conversation about the future when he was missing a very key piece of the puzzle.  Still, his insistence on not letting her give up the things that were important to her was heartwarming; much more like the Wyatt who came back from that black site, who comforted her after she'd been rescued from Rittenhouse.  She'd missed that Wyatt terribly.  
  
They walked in companionable silence for a few moments until they passed a sign for paleontology department.  Lucy smiled. “You know, they’ll build a T-Rex in here in the 90s,” she started, casting a glance towards Wyatt.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“A huge skeleton.  Too bad it's not here now - Rosie’d go nuts.”  
  
He looked over at her, mild confusion etched across his features, and she realized he probably wasn't privy to that fact about the little girl.  
  
“Oh, I guess you don't — she has a thing for dinosaurs.”  
  
“Yeah?” he asked, brightening considerably, his interest clearly piqued.    
  
She nodded.  “It's pretty adorable, actually.”  
  
“You seem to know a lot about her,” he said with a smile.  “Your time together in the Lifeboat must be enlightening.”  
  
She fought the urge to snort.  _Moreso than you could ever imagine._   “Uh… Yeah, I’ve learned a lot.  Talk about dreams - yesterday she wanted to be a time traveling dinosaur scientist.”  
  
He chuckled, and she steeled herself for the rest of the conversation.  _Deep breath._   “She, uh, she also mentioned—”  
  
Wyatt stopped short; Lucy turned to look at him in puzzlement only to find him staring up at the large double doors of the library.  
  
“Sorry - I think we’re here. You wanna finish telling me what she said before we go in?”  
  
She forced out a chuckle.  “Oh, no, just — I'll tell you later.  Not pressing.”  At least not technically speaking; they had a number of months to sort things out.  Emotionally?  That was another story.  
  
She pushed her guilt down as they stepped through the doors to the library.  Her objective here was Amy, her sister’s very existence relying on her actions in the library today.  So she put Rosie out of her mind and stepped into the lobby, heading towards the stacks to see if she could locate her Dad.  Wyatt trailed a step behind as they wandered past the circulation desk into the rows of towering bookshelves.  
  
Few words were exchanged, Lucy instead scanning the crowd for the younger version of her father.  It had been twenty years since they’d lost him; Amy had been barely older than she was when Amy was born.  She hadn't had many memories of their Dad, mostly remembering qualities - his patience, his laughter, how he always smelled of Old Spice.  Lucy, seven years older, fared a bit better, but still - fifteen was too young to lose a parent.  (So was thirty-five, for that matter, but in many ways she'd lost her mom far earlier than that.)  Her parents were the perfect counter-balance for each other, her Dad’s laid back spirit the antidote to her mother’s drive - and once he was gone there was nothing to keep her from running off unchecked.  
  
It had been so long, she'd almost forgotten how much she missed him.  
  
She finally spotted him at the card catalogue, meticulously refiling index cards that had been pulled out of order.  She grabbed Wyatt’s sleeve and pulled him back between the stacks.  “There he is!”  
  
“Amy’s Dad?”  
  
She rolled her eyes.  “And mine.  Parenthood is more than biology, Wyatt.”  
  
He winced, and she realized he probably assumed she was thinking about his own kid.  _Irony_.  Moving on, she gestured back towards the catalogue.  “Light blue shirt, nerdy glasses, filing the catalogue cards.”  
  
Wyatt peeked around the corner, then pulled back, smirking.  “I dig the glasses.”  
  
“He hung onto that style until the early 90s.  Between him and my history-obsessed Mom, it's no wonder I turned out to be such a nerd.”  
  
“I’d say they did alright,” he replied, the tone of his voice and the weight in his words making her glance back at him.    
  
She sent him a sheepish half-grin, feeling a light blush rise to her cheeks.  “Thanks.”  
  
Poking her head back around the corner, she checked her pocket for the paper her future self had given her.  Their plan was flimsy, but they were counting on her dad’s inability to ignore someone in need of help.  She looked back at Wyatt, locked eyes, and gave a decisive nod.  “All right - let's do this.”  
  
She stepped around the corner and approached her father.  “Excuse me,” she said politely, finding herself disarmed by the charm in his smile.  “Can you maybe help me find a book?  My sister’s in the home stretch of her research paper and seems she's managed to drip coffee onto her notes - needs me to check the page number for a quote she'd like to use.”  
  
“Absolutely miss,” her Dad replied, “What's the title?”    
  
“It's uh - hang on, it's on Eleanor Roosevelt—”  She dug in her pocket and begun to unfold the paper as she watched her father’s eyes dance with amusement.  
  
“I'm afraid you won't find that here, dear.  This is the science library.”  
  
Lucy did her best to look confused.  “Oh.  I asked someone where the library is — they pointed me here —”  She trailed off.  “Is there a different one?”  
  
He nodded.  “I’d probably start with the Bancroft.  It's inside the Doe building.”    
  
Lucy nodded blankly.  “Where?”  
  
“The Doe building?  It's just up the way here —”  Noting Lucy’s still-blank expression, he interrupted himself.  “I’m done here in ten minutes, and it's on my way out.  If you don’t mind waiting, I'd be thrilled to walk with you.”  
  
Lucy nodded and broke into a smile.  “That would be wonderful!  Thank you!  I'll just wait, uh —”  Looking around, she spotted Wyatt, having taken a seat at a table, and gestured in his direction.  “I'll be right over there.”  
  
Her father nodded and she thanked him before walking over to join Wyatt.  “He’ll walk us over in about ten minutes.”  
  
Wyatt smiled in response.  She then found herself in the unenviable position of needing to fill ten minutes of small talk with arguably the most important person in her life… without the ability to actually discuss anything of significance about their lives.  So instead she quietly - and carefully - filled him in on the history of the Bancroft, keeping a cautious eye out for her Dad.  Their cover story would be blown if he heard her lessons - given that she wasn't supposed to even know it existed and all.  
  
She needn't have worried, as they saw him coming from across the room, a bright smile and big wave alerting them to his approach.  “My apologies,” he said, “I had to finish the filing and punch out.”  
  
“No apologies needed,” Lucy replied.  “You're doing us a favor.”  
  
“Nonsense - it's on my way.”  A pause and then, “I’m Henry, by the way.”  
  
“Lucy,” she said, immediately second-guessing herself and wondering if she was affecting her own future naming.  “And this is my, uh - my friend, Wyatt.”  
  
Her father smiled, reaching out to shake Wyatt’s hand as he stood and the group began to move towards the doors.  “Nice to meet you, Wyatt.”  
  
“Likewise, sir,” he replied.    
  
Her Dad scrutinized him for a moment.  “You're a military man?” he asked, seemingly tipped off by the formal greeting.  
  
“Yes, sir.  U.S. Army.”  
  
Her Dad nodded thoughtfully.  “Same, though not by choice.”  
  
“Most weren't,” Wyatt replied.  “I needed the discipline.”  
  
She listened as they chatted for the brief walk to the Bancroft, Wyatt's true but appropriately vague statements drawing her Dad out.  He got more out of her Dad about his time in Vietnam in the three-minute walk than she'd heard her entire life, and Lucy was fascinated to learn more about her own family’s history.  
  
They arrived at the library, Wyatt and her Dad still chatting like old pals as they climbed the stone steps.  Wyatt once again held the door for her, earning a nod of approval from her father.  Scanning the area, she finding no sign of her future counterparts - or her mother.  She headed right, only to have her father call after her - “Oh - this way, please!”  
  
Following her Dad dutifully to the left, she reflected upon how odd it was to fake ignorance about a place that she, as a researcher, knew so well.  As they ascended the stairs, Wyatt fell back to walk in step with her.  “Anything?”  
  
She shook her head.  She glanced around as they reached the next floor; still nothing.  As her father led them confidently to another room, she finally spotted part of the party out of the corner of her eye, Future Wyatt curled into an armchair with Rosie tucked into his side.  A thick volume sat open on their laps, and even from the distance, she could see Rosie animatedly discussing something with her dad.    
  
_That girl._  
  
Lucy fell her heart clench inside of her chest, marveling at how the little girl had wormed her way into her heart in a matter of days.  It had started even before she'd known she was hers; she was pretty sure she would have loved her regardless, though maybe not as effortlessly as she did given all she now knew.  But Rosie, she reminded herself for the thousandth time that day, was not the topic at hand, so she tore her eyes away from the duo in the chair to look back at her own father, far younger than she'd ever known him.  
  
He'd continued to head towards the stacks, and thankfully it didn't seem he'd noticed her hesitance.  “Roosevelt will be in here,” he noted, turning his head to look over his shoulder at Lucy.  “I, uh - I'll have to look to tell you exactly where to find Eleanor.  Franklin or Theodore I could give you off the top of my— oof!” he said, stopping short as he collided with a petite blonde.  Lucy blinked, then grinned as she recognized the much younger version of her mother.  “Oh - so sorry!” her father exclaimed, clearly mortified, bending immediately to help scoop the stack of books her mother had been carrying up off the floor.  
  
“It's quite all right,” she replied, “I should have been watching my step instead of reading the book jacket.  I suppose it's a lesson learned!”  
  
“Let me at least help you to the table - it's the least I can do,” he asked her - almost begging.  And from the intense look in his eyes, Lucy knew that it was just as her parents had always said - he was already smitten.  
  
As was her mother, if the blush rising to her cheeks was any indication.  “That's so kind of you,” she replied.    
  
“Pardon me a moment,” he said distractedly to Lucy and Wyatt, and he stepped towards the reading room tables without waiting for a reply.  Her mother walked alongside him, sending him a shy smile as she asked his name.  
  
Their conversation continued as they found a table - out of earshot now - and she watched as her mom gestured for her father to take the seat opposite her.  He hesitated for a minute, then complied, perched on the edge - as if he didn't plan to stay long.  But as they watched, he slowly settled into the chair, seemingly powerless to break away from her mother’s trance.    
  
“Roosevelt doesn't seem so important after all,” Lucy muttered to Wyatt, who looked back at her with a grin.  
  
“Nope.”  
  
They watched for another moment before Lucy felt a tug on her pant leg.  Looking down, she found Rosie looking up at her expectantly, a thick book wrapped in her tiny arms.  
  
“Daddy said it's time to go.  Can you help me put this back?”  
  
“Of course,” Lucy said, glancing at the cover.  “The War of 1812, huh?  Isn't that kind of heavy reading for such a little girl?”  
  
Rosie shrugged blithely.  “It has pictures.”  
  
Biting back a laugh, she looked across at Wyatt to find him studying the little girl curiously.  “Would you like me to take that?” he asked.  
  
“It's okay,” Rosie replied.  “It's not too heavy.  My Daddy teached me how to work out, so I can carry it.”  
  
He looked back at Lucy, the expression on his face seeming to ask what he was supposed to do with that.  She shrugged in response.  While she didn't know what _he_ was supposed to do with that, she definitely knew her own heart was melting at the idea of this tiny girl “working out” alongside Future Wyatt - whatever that looked like for a four year old.    
  
Pushing the endearing thought down, Lucy turned, beginning to scan the shelves in an effort to reshelve the book.   Before she could decide on the right aisle, she noticed her father approaching out of the corner of her eye.  Turning back towards him, she offered him a small smile as he made his apologies.  
  
“So sorry!  The least I could do is help after I managed to knock her things to the ground!  I’m so clumsy sometimes, I swear.”  
  
“Lucy here knows nothing about that,” Wyatt said with a laugh, and Lucy fixed him with a mock glare.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
Wyatt shrugged blithely.  “Only the truth, babydoll.”  
  
Lucy rolled her eyes.  She noticed Henry’s glance had settled on the little girl to her right, and opted for an introduction before he could ask questions that would leave her in the position of needing to dole out an awkward lie.  “Henry, this is, uh, my - my friends’ little girl, Rosie.”  Turning to Rosie, she continued.  “We’ll put your book back just as soon as this nice man is done showing me where to find the book I need, okay?”  
  
Rosie nodded and Henry smiled down at the girl.  “Pleased to meet you, Rosie.”  
  
Rosie smiled back at him.  Then, after a pause, she looked to Lucy.  “What's it about?”  
  
“My book?  It's about a woman named Eleanor Roosevelt.  She was married to the president, but she did lots of important things on her own, too.”  
  
Rosie lit up.  “I know all ‘bout her!  My mom loves Eleanor Rose-felt!”  
  
Henry chuckled.  “Does she now?”  
  
Rosie nodded eagerly.  “My mom’s a historium.  She goes back and forth in time and tells me all the stories!”  
  
Lucy’s eyes grew wide as she glanced over to Wyatt.  She'd phrased it innocuously enough that her father didn't pick up on Rosie’s true meaning, but - how did their counterparts handle these situations?    
  
His raised eyebrow echoed the question, and she filed away a mental note to ask her future counterpart the next time they were somewhere they could talk freely.  In the meantime, Henry had begun walking towards the Roosevelt biographies, looking over his shoulder and down at the little girl as they went.  “Do you have a favorite story, young miss?”  
  
Rosie screwed up her nose, deep in thought.  “Today, I think Amelia Earhart,” she finally replied.  “A’cause she’s a pilot, like my Aunt Jiya!”  
  
“That's a good favorite,” Henry agreed.  “Do you think you'll be a pilot like her when you grow up?”  
  
“No,” Rosie said, shaking her head.  “A dinosaur scientist.”  
  
“Oh!”  Henry replied, and Lucy could see him biting back a smile.  “A paleontologist.  That will be a piece of cake for a smart girl like you.”  
  
“A pay-what?”  
  
Her father chuckled.  “Paleontologist.  It's a big word that means dinosaur scientist.”  
  
Rosie’s brow furrowed.  “I’ll have to learn it.  My daddy can help me.  He knows everything.”  
  
Lucy raised an eyebrow, sneaking a peek at Wyatt and sincerely hoping he was grasping the depth of Rosie’s unshakable faith in him, as evidenced by her calm assurance that he knew “everything.”  Certainly, he looked awed at the level of Rosie’s hero worship - the tot’s adoration still a foreign concept.  Lucy tucked the memory away, determined to remind him of it the next time his self-doubt about fatherhood took hold of him.  
  
She was pulled from her thoughts by her father stopping and placing a hand on a shelf.  “Here are the Roosevelt biographies.  Would you like me to help you find the specific book, or…?”  
  
“That won't be necessary,” Lucy replied, smiling sweetly at him.  She'd like to get him back to her mother as soon as possible.  “I think we can take it from here.”  A pause and then, “Thank you so much for your help.  Your kindness won't be forgotten.”  
  
“It was no trouble at all, miss,” he replied.  Turning to Rosie, he addressed her seriously.  “Keep learning new things, okay?  And remember the library is always here when you need new knowledge.”    
  
Rosie nodded as her father turned to Wyatt and clapped him on the shoulder.  “Take good care of these lovely ladies now, son.  I'm glad they have you to rely on.”  
  
As her father wandered away, she wondered briefly where he'd come up with that notion.  Perhaps something was said in his talk with Wyatt?  Her attention was pulled back to the duo in the aisle as she caught Wyatt pointing out the Dewey decimal label on the book’s spine and patiently explaining the system to an enraptured Rosie.  
  
“So there's numbers here, and they tell us where the book goes.  This one starts with 973, which usually helps a lot… but since we’re in the history library, there’s a whole lot of those.  So we look at the numbers after the dot—”  
  
“That's a 5!  I know it ‘cause I'll be 5 in December.”  
  
Lucy tensed - yesterday’s conversation coming to mind - but Wyatt didn't even blink.  “Good job,” he praised, ruffling Rosie’s hair.  “And right now, we’re way up in the 9s, so we’ve gotta go back a couple of rows.”  
  
He led the way, Rosie close on his heels, and Lucy trailed behind.  All she could think, watching the duo, is how thankful she was that her child was fortunate enough to have this man as her father.  Plagued with self-doubt as he was, he'd jumped in without a second thought, and was every bit as patient with her as his future counterpart had been.  As he walked, she noticed he paused amongst the Civil War, almost as if he was searching for something.  
  
“Missing something?” she asked.  
  
“I was going to point out your book to her, but uh…”  He trailed off and smiled, shaking his head, leaving the _it hasn't been written yet_ unvoiced.  
  
She laughed.  “Uh, yeah.  Not gonna find that here.  Or now, more accurately.”  
  
He shook his head, still smiling at his gaffe, then finally found the correct section.  Locating the gap that the book had left, he pointed it out to Rosie.  
  
“So here are the other 5s… looks like your book goes right here.  Would you like me to put it back?”  
  
“No, I’ll do it,” she said confidently.  “Just lift me up.”  
  
Lucy barely contained a snort at her own bossiness being reflected in this tiny girl.  _They were in so much trouble._   She had half a mind to apologize to Wyatt right then and there for passing that particular trait on.  But he seemed non-plussed, apparently unbothered at being bossed around by a four year old, and she watched as he obediently bent to lift the little girl, keeping a firm grip on her waist as she worked the book back into its spot.  
  
Once she pushed the book in as far as it would go, Wyatt asked, “You good?”  
  
“Yup!”    
  
Once her feet hit solid ground, she swung around, beaming.  “Thank you!”  
  
“You did a good job,” he said, reaching out and awkwardly ruffling her hair.  
  
“Thanks!  You did a good job too!”  
  
Lucy bit back a laugh, then glanced at Wyatt.  He looked oddly pleased with himself, and while it should have been strange to be so affected by the approval of a preschooler, she got it.  It wasn't like this was exactly a random kid off the street, and - thinking back over the last few days - this was really the first interaction the two of them had had.  The look of pride slid into a mixture of awe and panic as Rosie casually informed them that her parents would meet the trio out by the front steps and then sweetly asked him, “Hold my hand so I don't get lost?”  
  
He looked taken aback, but offered his hand nonetheless.  “Of course!”  
  
As they walked towards the front of the library, Rosie casually hung onto Wyatt’s hand.  In return, Wyatt clung to hers as if he was afraid she'd evaporate otherwise.  
  
“Easy there,” she said, leaning over and speaking lowly into Wyatt’s ear.  “She's gonna need that hand.  Hard to excavate dinos when you can't hold a brush.”  
  
He snorted, and she noted his grip loosen ever so slightly.  “I just don't want to lose her.  Future Us would have my head.”  
  
Lucy had no doubt that that was true, but — “She doesn't seem the running off type.  _She_ asked for _your_ hand.”  A pause and then, “They clearly trust her enough to stay with us, how about you trust that they've raised her well enough she won't bolt?”  
  
He frowned in return, but Lucy noticed his grip loosen a bit more.  She was distracted in short order as they walked past her parents, leaning in close together as they furiously whispered - her mother’s animated expressions uncannily reminiscent of those she'd seen cross Rosie’s face more than once since her arrival.  Funny - it had been so long since she'd seen her mother get unabashedly excited about something that she hadn't even realized it.  
  
“Bye!” Rosie called, and even as Wyatt leaned in to shush her, Henry looked over with a bright smile and a wave.    
  
Following the duo out the door, Lucy tucked the interaction away in her heart, the surreal experience of her not-yet-born daughter meeting her long-deceased father one that she knew would never be repeated.  As tough as it was to walk away from her parents - likely the last time she'd see either alive - it was easier knowing that she was leaving them _together_ , at the start of the loving relationship and eventual happy marriage that they'd experienced in their original timeline.  
  
“Did you know,” Lucy said to Rosie as they headed to the first floor, “That the man you were talking to, Henry, is your grandpa?”  
  
“He _is_?” Rosie asked, twisting in Wyatt’s grasp to look at her, eyes growing wide.  
  
“Watch the stairs,” she said, noting the panicked look on Wyatt’s face as the little girl’s attention moved away from the large stone staircase they were descending.  Rosie complied, and she moved to stand next to the little girl.  “He is, well, was.  He lived a long time ago.  It’s lucky you got to meet him - he was a great guy.”  
  
As they reached the bottom of the steps, the little girl spotted her parents - well, the older version of her parents, technically speaking - and released Wyatt’s hand to fly over to them.  
  
“Hi!” Rosie said excitedly.  “Did you see?  I got to meet my gran-pa!”  She paused and then, conspiratorially, “I've never had a gran-pa before.”  
  
“I'm sorry you won't get the chance to know him,” Future Lucy replied.  “He was a pretty cool guy.”  
  
“That's what she says,” Rosie replied, glancing up at Lucy - as if to verify.  “An’ that I'm lucky I got to meet him at all.”  
  
Future Lucy glanced across at her younger counterpart.  “I never realized how badly I needed them to meet her until it happened.  I never would have wanted Mom around her, not after everything, but—”  
  
Lucy nodded.  “At least they got to meet her.”  
  
“Mommy?” Rosie asked, tugging on her mother’s shirt.  “What's a gran-pa?”  
  
“Your grandpa,” Future Lucy replied, scooping Rosie onto her hip as she began to walk, “Is my Daddy.  The girl you saw him talking to was my Mommy.”  
  
Rosie’s eyes grew wide, and she glanced from her Mom to Lucy and back.  “ _You_ have a Mommy and Daddy?”  
  
“A very long time ago, sweetheart.”  
  
A wave of sadness washed over Lucy, the realization that her child would never know the love of grandparents, Sunday dinners and sleepovers and too much sugar.  But even if they'd still been alive, she realized, she would have done her damndest to keep the girl away from her mother.  From the few stories he'd shared, she knew Wyatt’s father was no better.  Maybe worse.  She'd have Denise and Rufus and Jiya - Mason - hopefully even Amy - but here was another component of the life she'd always thought she'd have that she'd need to adjust her thinking on.  
  
Funny how just days after losing her mother, she found herself grieving her anew - in a whole different way this time.  
  
But she had made some gains in that time, too, she reminded herself, as the little girl’s voice broke through her reverie.  “Can I go meet Aunt Amy now?”  
  
“Soon, baby,” Future Lucy replied.   She paused as she leaned in to nuzzle her daughter’s nose.  “And then once we get back, we have a lot of things to explain to her before she meets you.  That is,” she replied, taking in a shaky breath and glancing over at Lucy, “if it even worked.”  
  
Lucy swallowed thickly.  “Yeah, I guess we should start with that before we start worrying too much about the rest.”  
  
“Daddy says you gotta worry ‘bout one problem at a time,” Rosie offered sweetly, glancing over at her father.  
  
“So he does,” Future Lucy said with a chuckle.  “First, we jump.  Then we see if it worked.  _Then_ we’ll have to explain things, and finally you'll be able to meet her.  Okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Rosie replied, nodding eagerly.  
  
From there the group began their trek back to the Lifeboats.  Rosie walked between her parents, occasionally swinging from their arms, as Lucy & Wyatt trailed behind, each lost in their own thoughts.  Lucy glanced across at him, trying to discern what he was thinking as he looked at the small family with a mix of awe, wonder and trepidation on his face.    
  
She knew what she saw - a set of parents who adored their kid and bent over backwards to ensure she had a good life, free from their burdens and hangups, safe and protected from the threats she'd hopefully never have to know about.  But Wyatt?  His eyes flicked to her future counterpart with a hero worship that was not unlike how Rosie had spoken about her father earlier.  From there they shifted to his own future counterpart and she watched them darken with concern and confusion.  
  
_That_ look she could read clear as day.  She couldn't let him keep on like that, with his crippling self-doubt - not after how he'd been in the library this afternoon.  She slowed her steps to leave some distance between them and their future counterparts and leaned in to ensure her words remained private.  “You're amazing,” she said lowly,  “With her.  And, I mean, in general - but especially with her.”  
  
“ _He's_ amazing,” he replied, nodding towards his future self, currently tickle-attacking a happily shrieking Rosie.  “I think she just picks up on the familiarity.”  
  
She shook her head.  “I don't know how you don't see it.  I watched you with her - and I saw every bit of gentle patience that I see with him.  All of that, everything you're looking for, trying to figure out how you turn into that person for her?  You already _are_ that person.  You just need to let yourself believe that.  The only thing stopping you from being that kind of Dad is your own self-doubt.”  She paused, thinking, as he looked incredulously at her.  “I think - it's kinda like you told me in Germany.  You just gotta get over the hump.”  
  
He rolled his eyes.  “You're throwing my own pep talk back at me.”  
  
“More like the fruits of it," she said with a smirk.  "Talking is _good_ , Wyatt.   Just keep doing that and you'll be okay.”  A pause and then, “I'd tell you to figure out what you're fighting for, but I think you already know.  You know… Other Me reminded me yesterday that I won't betray Amy by letting that list grow.  You won't betray your grandpa, either.”  
  
They lapsed into silence, both looking towards the trio in front of them.  After a moment, Lucy continued.  
  
“We keep talking about them,” she started, pausing in her walk and turning to search his face.  “But they are us.  _Literally_ us, five years from now,” she said, gesturing to the family in front of them.  “Married.  With a kid.  _Happy_.”  She stared ahead in awe and contemplation for a moment before continuing.  “Not happy with their circumstances, but with each other.  They are literally all they - we - have anymore, each other and that little girl.”  She felt herself start to tear up and shook her head - _damn hormones_.  
  
Turning to face him, she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.  “That's us, five years from now.  It's ours if we want it.”  
  
“If _we_ want it?” He asked incredulously.  “Luce, I already told you how I feel.  I love you.  I can't fathom you wanting a future with me after everything I put you through, but if you do?  It's all I could possibly want out of life.”  
  
“I do.  I want this,” she said, gesturing at the trio ahead of him.  “More than you could possibly know.”  She paused, chewing on her lip, eyeing Tightwad Hill rising up in front of them and thinking how yet again the timing was poor for telling him about Rosie - how did a pair of time travelers _never have time_?  
  
She watched as Future Wyatt swung a giggling Rosie onto his back.  The little girl wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into his back, letting out a yawn.  Future Lucy laughed and reached over to ruffle her daughter’s hair.  While the words she said were lost in the breeze, it was clear that she was lovingly teasing the little girl.  
  
Was it possible to feel jealous of _yourself_?  The ease of their banter, the closeness - she knew they'd been to hell and back to get there, that they'd earned it in a way that she & her Wyatt had not yet done.  But still.  She wanted to be there so badly - back to the comfort and ease they'd had before everything got so complicated.  
  
As they hit the rise of the hill, she felt a steadying hand come under her elbow.  Wyatt didn't even appear to notice that he'd done it, eyes trained on the ground as he picked across the tree roots and rocks that littered the hillside, the attention to her safety an automatic reaction even when it didn't involve ducking for cover or firing a weapon.  The simple gesture struck her, the continued dichotomy between his worries and his actions serving to endear her all the more.  
  
“You know me better than pretty much anyone at this point,” she started, and he sent her a puzzled look before moving his eyes back to the uneven terrain.  “But sometimes I think you doubt yourself so much you forget how well you know me.  How could I not want this?” she said, nodding towards his hand at the elbow, then towards the trio in front of them, “That?”  She paused, gathering her words.  “I could choose to keep being hurt by the choices you made in an impossible situation… or I can give in to what my heart wants, which is you.”  She paused, looking beside her to find him gaping at her.  “I love you, Wyatt.  It doesn't mean it's gonna be perfect.  We’ll screw things up, it'll be messy sometimes.  But I spent six weeks trying not to mourn a future I was never really promised… now it’s right in front of me if I want it.  _Literally_ standing in front of me, mine for the taking.  How can that not be worth it?”  
  
“Luce, I—”  His voice was heavy with emotion and all she could do was reach out and squeeze his hand.  She didn't need to hear the round of apologies she knew were at the top of his tongue - he'd issued them already and she'd accepted.  Her heart wouldn't stand for anything less.  
  
“I know,” she replied.  “But it's what I _want_.”  
  
He dropped her hand then, reached out and pulled her into a hug - steady, strong, comforting.  She felt him press his nose into the side of her neck and breathe her in - like he wasn't really sure he could trust his eyes and his ears and needed to make sure this was really _real_.   She tightened her arms around him in response, reinforcing her own certainty that in his arms was the only place she wanted to be.  Pulling back slightly, she pushed onto tiptoes to brush a kiss against his cheek and whisper, “I love you.”  
  
Pulling back, he searched her face.  “Lucy —  You don't have to — I can't — why?”  
  
She shrugged innocently.  “Because I do.  Why do you love _me_?”  
  
“Because I — because you — because I _do_ ,” he replied, and she smiled.  
  
“Exactly.”  A pause and then, “It's not logical - in fact it's probably the most illogical, least well-thought-out decision in my whole life.  But it's also somehow the most right.  I love you, Wyatt, and I'm done fighting against what I want anymore.”  
  
He continued to stare at her, dumbfounded, and she reached back out to grab his hand.  Giving it a loving squeeze, she gestured up the hill to where their future selves stood.  “C’mon, let’s go,” she said.  “Our future is waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of notes -- 
> 
> Please forgive any errors in the history presented in this chapter; I did my best to research, but I am definitely not a historian!  
> For those who may be intimately familiar with UC Berkeley circa 1970s (especially the libraries,) I apologize - the information available online is limited and a trip to California (let alone 1970s California!) was not in this poor fic writer’s budget. I also took a few liberties for the sake of story.
> 
> Also, I did my best to keep things canon compliant, but the show has a pretty significant continuity error regarding Lucy’s mom’s age (ie, in 102 she was born in 1958, making her 25 when Lucy was born; but in 105 she says “I was a junior,” which would have made her several years younger.) I opted to stick with the timeline laid out in 102 & 115 (her mom meeting Henry Wallace in 1979) but it's possible this creates some other discrepancies. Please forgive.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> As always, sorry for the lengthy delay between the chapters. I am a fairly pokey writer, and life's been crazy busy lately... I wish I could crank them out more quickly. (I'm in awe of writers that can!)
> 
> I think we have about four chapters left in this tale - depending on which route I go for the ending (I'm still pondering a few options.) That includes a weird one-off chapter that might be my favorite of the whole story, so I'm excited to share that soon!
> 
> Hope you all continue to enjoy. Always happy for feedback!
> 
> DSB

The mission to save Amy had taken the better part of the day. By the time they arrived back at the bunker, it was well past dinner time; while Rosie had apparently been given a snack (procured from where, Lucy wasn't sure she wanted to know,) the adults were well past famished. 

Lucy had half a mind to skip dinner and rush out to get Amy, but a stern look from her future counterpart had her conceding a bite to eat. Still— 

“As soon as we’re done here, I'm going to see Amy.”

“No you're not,” Agent Christopher replied, and Lucy bristled.

“You're telling me I haven't seen my sister in _two years_ \- because she _hasn't existed_ \- and you're not going to let me make sure that she's okay?”

__

“Lucy,” Agent Christopher replied, the motherly tone Lucy normally so loved now driving her crazy. “You know what a risk that is. You wouldn't leave for medical care, but you want me to clear you for this? Rufus can't see his family either - and need I remind you how poorly it went the last time someone went running after a recently resurrected family member?”

_Ouch._ “But—" 

“I'm sorry, I can't allow it. That's it, end of discussion.”

While Lucy was grappling with the heartless edict, her future counterpart swung around to look at her Wyatt. “How long’s our charge got?”

“Mmm... 'bout two hours?”

“Cool. We’ll go then.”

Agent Christopher moved to protest, but Future Lucy just shrugged indifferently. “My sister, too. Seems like it would be better to let her take a car than to have us drop a time machine on her front lawn, but hey - like Wyatt said earlier, we’re way beyond giving a crap about butterfly effects.”

Agent Christopher drew back. “You're bluffing.”

Future Lucy shrugged. “Try me.”

“And what if she turns out to be Rittenhouse?”

“She's not,” Future Lucy said confidently.

“And how on earth can you know that? Lucy, you haven't seen her in—” Denise thought for a minute, “seven years. You have no idea who she is anymore.”

“I _know_ her,” Future Lucy replied, “because she's my sister. I worked like hell to bring her back and I'll be damned if I let fear keep her from me.”

“We still can't know if she's Rittenhouse,” Denise cautioned, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of adding someone else to the bunker. “It's not like being a member comes up in background searches. Cahill, your mother, Jessica, all squeaky clean - no trace for any of them.” 

“Look, while anything is possible, I don't think it's likely she's Rittenhouse. Unlike, uh—” Future Lucy shot a glance at her Wyatt, who gave an encouraging nod, “unlike _other people_ , Rittenhouse didn't bring her back. On the contrary, they worked super hard to make sure she'd stay permanently erased. And furthermore—” She stopped, fidgeting foot-to-foot, looking carefully at her younger counterpart before continuing, “Furthermore, bringing her back is completely contrary to their goals, the manipulation that makes them so effective.”

Denise’s brow furrowed. “How do you figure that?”

“It's just a theory, but we think it was kind of all my Mom’s punishment. My Dad - Henry Wallace - wasn't Rittenhouse. She fell in love with him, she married him, she even had a child with him. They wouldn't have looked kindly on that. She herself was the product of a Rittenhouse union - Keanes hand-picked my grandfather to marry his daughter before either of them were even born. And it's not like they would have had much say in the 50s. 

“In the same vein, my mom should have married Ben Cahill to maintain the lineage, but she up and married my Dad before they had the chance to arrange it. So she had me to pacify them, to fulfill her obligation to the organization - but that was all she did. She didn't stay with Cahill even in a timeline where she wasn't married to my Dad. And it might have been enough to keep them off her back in the original timeline, but that kind of disobedience? It comes with a price. In this case, my mom may have thought it was her orders that kept Amy permanently erased, but all she was doing was falling right into line with what they wanted. Her punishment for marrying - and, worse, _reproducing_ \- outside of Rittenhouse was to lose them forever. Without ever truly remembering them.”

The group took in Future Lucy’s explanation and was quiet for a moment, pondering. Finally Lucy turned to her future counterpart and asked, “So if marrying Dad and having Amy was a giant act of rebellion—”

“Rittenhouse would do everything in their power to ensure they were erased. It's why bringing her back - that was all us.” A pause and then, “She won't be Rittenhouse; they did their damndest to be sure she could never exist again.”

Denise pursed her lips. “I hear what you're saying, but the risk—”

“Don't talk to me about risk,” Future Lucy spat out, cutting the agent off as her patience ran out. “Like you can possibly understand what that means. I’ve lost my sister, my father, my mother, my best friend, all of you who had grown to become my family — never mind things like my career and any sense of normalcy in my life. It’s only by dumb luck and the skin of my teeth that I haven't lost my husband or my child. We live that risk every day - I damn well understand what it means. And going to get Amy? It's a risk well worth taking.”

Denise looked to Future Wyatt, as if asking him to keep his wife in check. He merely shrugged. “I sure hope you're not thinking I'm gonna contradict her. Seven years of this hell, and the only thing I've ever been able to promise Lucy is that we’d get her sister back someday. If she wants her here in the bunker, one way or another, you better figure out how to make it happen. Because it’ll either happen on your terms or ours.” He chuckled, a fond note creeping into his voice. “One of the things you might have noticed about my Lucy is that seven years of battle have made her a little less cautious. As much as she's been a good influence on me, I'm afraid it's worked the other way around, too. She's a force to be reckoned with - and if she wants her sister, she _gets her sister_.”

Looking between Future Lucy, Future Wyatt, and present day Lucy, Denise scrutinized them for a moment, then sighed, appearing to concede the battle. “The background check should be back in forty-five minutes. Can you wait until then?”

“I suppose,” Future Lucy agreed grudgingly. “But no longer.”

Denise nodded, then turned to Lucy. “I'll have a car for you.” Lucy nodded her thanks as the agent continued. “Wyatt, can you be ready?”

Lucy’s jaw hit the ground. “Seriously? I'm a grown adult! I don't need a chaperone to drive a car to my own house to get my own sister!” she exclaimed, exasperated.

“Professor Preston,” Agent Christopher replied, a warning tone to her voice, “You are leaving a secured military bunker, in the midst of a war - a personal war, nonetheless - to retrieve someone who may or may not be the same person you are hoping to find. I won't have you go without protection.”

“She's right,” Wyatt piped up. “I don't have to go in with you, but I'll be damned if I'm risking those bastards getting their hands on you again.”

Even a glance at her future counterpart revealed that she was outvoted. “I'm with them on this one,” Future Lucy said, shooting Lucy a stern look. “After last time you walked into that house?” A pause and then, “It's probably just Amy, and it's probably all fine but - all things considered?” She raised an eyebrow, offering a pointed look at her present-day counterpart. “Having Wyatt along is a lot smarter than going alone.”

_All things considered._

Lucy’s eyes darted to Rosie, then back to her future counterpart. “All right,” she conceded. “You make a good argument.”

Future Lucy smirked. “It's almost as if I know how you think.” She paused, sobering. “Just be careful, okay? And I don't say this often, but — listen to Wyatt.”

Lucy nodded. She glanced back at Denise, who looked vaguely amused at the exchange, and Wyatt, eyeing Future Lucy warily.

“You still don't listen, huh?”

Future Wyatt snorted. “How many times have you seen me tell her what to do since we got here? I figured out a while back that life is happier if I just listen to the boss. She’s usually right anyways.”

“Not always,” Future Lucy replied, reaching out to place a hand on his arm as she sent him a sweet smile.

“Nah. Guess I do get a win in once in a while.”

“All right, well,” Wyatt interrupted, rolling his eyes at their future counterparts, “Guess I better start putting that lesson into play. When we leaving, boss?”

Lucy shook her head, a fond smile playing on her face. “Don't start that.” A pause and then, “Denise says 45 minutes.”

He nodded sharply. “45 minutes it is.”

* * *

The drive over was uncharacteristically quiet. Lucy stared out the window, torn between mild annoyance that she couldn't be trusted to drive across town alone and gratitude that she had Wyatt there as a comfort, to keep her from drowning in her own solitude. They had _so much_ to talk about, and she briefly considered taking advantage of the rare moment of true solitude. 

As if he could read her mind, he cleared his throat. “You doin’ okay?”

She glanced over at him, face intermittently illuminated by passing streetlights, and her heart clenched. For a moment, she let herself wander - as if this were the most normal thing in the world, the two of them going for a night drive, talking quietly in the front seat - like she remembered her parents, on the way back from Sunday visits to her grandparents’ house, their quiet timbre a lullaby for her and Amy in the back seat. This _could_ be their future, she supposed, if they ever managed to defeat Rittenhouse - a glance at the backseat revealing it to be weirdly empty, the absence of a baby carrier feeling like a burning omission of some sort. And the absence of Amy. _One problem at a time._

She must have stayed lost in thought for too long, as he reached out to pat her knee. “I think some nerves are normal.”

She snorted. As if there were anything normal about any of this.

Another glance out the window revealed they had about ten minutes to go, and she steeled herself. Not that she wanted to have this conversation now, in the car, but in their weird lives if they had the time and they had the privacy, she should probably take advantage.

“Wyatt, I—”. She trailed off, losing her voice, finding it again. “There's something I need to tell you.”

He glanced over, the hand that he'd left on her knee coming to life and giving it a rub. “Mind on the mission, Luce. Confessions can hold until later.”

Because he was one to speak about ill-timed confessions.

“Yeah but - there's something you need to know. I've been trying to tell you all day. It’s only fair—”

He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Lucy. There's plenty of time for all that. Later.”

She sighed. The guilt of holding onto the secret might eat her alive, but he didn't seem in the right frame of mind to hear her out. _As if there were a right frame of mind for this._ Still, the debate had left them with just a few minutes to go, and this wasn't a three-minute conversation. So she pushed out another breath, refocusing her mind from how to start _that_ conversation to how she'd proceed with Amy. She had no idea what, if anything, Amy knew of her life over the last few years - did she know that she had top-secret, middle-of-the-night missions? That she wasn't teaching anymore? Did she know Rufus, Jiya, Denise? (Did she know _Wyatt_?)

“Do you think she'll be the same?” she asked, softly, pulling her attention from the window to focus on Wyatt. “Future Me seems to sure she's not Rittenhouse - and I want to believe she's right - but I'm not sure who she _is_ anymore.”

He glanced at her briefly. “She's still your sister, Lucy.”

“Yeah, but - I've changed so much in the last two years. What if she has too?”

____

Wyatt looked over at her again as he brought the car to a stop at a red light. Fixing her with an intense stare, he tilted his head, considering her words. “It's true - you have changed since I've first met you. But _who_ you are hasn't changed. You're still one of the most caring, selfless, fiercely protective people I've known. And bravest. You were scared out of your mind that first trip, but you still went, right? The distance between that you and the Lara Croft version who showed up four days ago is not nearly as much as you think it is.” She shot him a look of disbelief and confusion - what did this have to do with Amy? - and he continued. “ _I know you_ , and although you've grown and had new experiences, you're still Lucy. I'm sure it's the same for Amy. We can't know what she experienced during the two years you didn't live with her, but she's still Amy.” The light turned green and he moved his attention back to the road. “You said she was your best friend?”

____

Lucy nodded. “Even with the age gap. She was born two days before I turned 7. Came home on my birthday. It was the best present a girl could ask for. By the time she was six or seven, it started to be evident she wasn’t as easy for Mom to mold as I had been - so Mom harped on her. But I just loved her, no matter who she was, so naturally she gravitated towards me. Especially after Dad died. By the time I left for college, we were practically inseparable. The best part of moving back home when Mom got sick was having her right there again.”

____

Wyatt sent her a gently smile. “When you're close to someone like that - that kind of connection doesn't go away just because you haven't seen her in a while.” Taking a left onto the street, he glanced over again. “Which house?”

____

“Uh - second on the right,” Lucy replied distractedly. “I guess you're right.”

____

“I know I'm right,” Wyatt replied, turning into the driveway. As he put the car in park, he turned to face Lucy. “Now go get your sister.” 

____

* * *

____

Thank goodness for Amy’s disobedience. The hide-a-key was where she'd always kept it, hidden well out of sight after their mother forbade its installation. After one too many lost keys, Amy flipped the bird to their mother’s rules, and luckily their mom never noticed the false rock in the back of the flowerbed. Lucy’s own keys were - well, who knew where, in this version of the timeline. That was another problem for another day. 

____

“Amy?” Lucy hollered, walking in the front door, letting out an involuntary shudder at the sense of deja vu that washed over her. She’d done the same after their very first mission, only to find her sister gone and her mother well - what had seemed at the time to be a miracle, but she knew now was just a loss all around.

____

“Lucy?” Amy’s voice hollered back from the top of the stairs, and Lucy nearly burst into tears. Amy appeared just then, standing briefly at the top of the staircase taking her in. Then she thundered down the stairs - “You’re okay! I've been so worried,” she cried, pulling Lucy into her arms. “Where the hell have you been!”

____

“I, uh — shit, _you're_ okay,” she replied, clinging to her sister and burying her nose in her hair, breathing her in as tears streamed down her face. _Amy was back!_

_____ _

Amy squinted. “Why wouldn't I be?”

_____ _

Hesitating, Lucy considered how much to tell her. The whole story was far too much for right now. “I haven't seen you in so long - I had no idea how you'd be.” She paused, fidgeting. “Look, I can’t explain everything, but you need to pack a bag and come with me.”

_____ _

Amy’s eyes narrowed. “You were _kidnapped_ , you waltz back in here, burst into tears, and just expect me to go with you?”

_____ _

“I'm away from the people who kidnapped me now,” Lucy began, wiping her eyes as she continued to debate how much she should share. “But they're - they're bad news, and I'm worried they might come back for you. It's not safe for us to be out here.”

_____ _

“Damn, Luce - what the hell happened?” Amy asked, stepping back. “Is this about your weird new job? What kind of people have you gotten mixed up with?!”

_____ _

Lucy sucked in a breath, pushed it out slowly. “Look, Amy, I really don't have time to explain. Just - grab your suitcase and pack what's important to you. The people we’re fighting against - they know how much you mean to me, which makes you a target. I have no idea when it'll be safe to come back. Or, honestly, if it ever will. We’ll explain once we get on the road - right now we just need to _go_.”

_____ _

The desperation radiating from Lucy must have been enough to convince Amy that she was serious. Amy nodded. “Sure, why not? I've got a few days ‘til my next class - guess I'm up for an adventure.”

_____ _

Despite her instincts, Lucy managed to stop herself from breathing down her sister’s neck while she packed. Instead, after lingering in Amy’s doorway for a few moments she went to her own room, grabbing a small duffle and throwing a few things inside. Christopher’s team had done a surprisingly decent job of gathering her things, but there were a few favorite pieces and sentimental items she wanted to be sure she had. A favorite pair of jeans, a couple of sweaters, some cozy slippers. Looking in her jewelry box, she found a bracelet that had been a present from her grandmother. She found a hair clip that had been her mom’s, too, and she picked it up, then hesitated, considering for a minute before she put it down. She wasn't sure if she could stomach any mementoes of who her mom used to be.

_____ _

She wandered to her bookshelf, grabbing her well-worn copies of Pride & Prejudice and Wuthering Heights. As she went to turn away, her eye caught on the small stack of books from her childhood, tucked into the very bottom corner. She crouched down, pulling a couple out - the biographies she'd read with Rosie just a couple of days prior. At a minimum, she’d want the missions they'd gone on, so she selected a handful of the thin books - Curie, Lincoln, Tubman - and tossed them into the duffel.

_____ _

Glancing around her room one final time, she grabbed the bag’s zipper, giving it a firm tug just as Amy appeared in the doorway. “Ready?”

_____ _

Lucy gave her a nod. “Let’s go.”

_____ _

She grabbed a fluffy blanket off of the back of the couch, then helped Amy drag her suitcase out the door. Amy locked up, then followed Lucy to the car, where they threw the suitcases in the trunk before climbing into the back seat.

_____ _

“Amy, this is Wyatt. He’s —” She hesitated. 

_____ _

_My sometimes boyfriend?_

______ _ _

_The man I’m in love with?_

___ _

_The source of weeks of heartache?_

______ _ _

_…my child’s father?_

_____ _

Finally - “He keeps me safe.”

_____ _

“Then I need to add a thanks to my ‘nice to meet you,’” Amy said with a laugh. “Anymore, seems Lucy really needs someone to keep her out of trouble. Used to be she needed someone to get her into it.”

_____ _

“Don't know if I'd go with out of trouble, ma’am,” he said, “she still manages to find plenty.” The two shared a laugh. Sobering, he continued. “Don't let her fool you. Your sister’s done plenty of saving, too. Not sure I'd be here today without her.”

_____ _

A peculiar look washed over Amy’s face and Lucy knew immediately that she had their number. She'd missed her sister _so much_ \- the exchange left her wondering how different the last months might have been with Amy to confide in. Maybe she would have given her the courage to act on her feelings sooner - or the sense not to - or at least a confidant so she didn't feel so damn alone.

_____ _

The girls buckled up and Wyatt backed down the driveway, cautiously navigating the suburban neighborhood that Lucy knew so well. Idly, she wondered if she'd ever see that house again. She wasn't sure if the thought made her more sad or relieved.

_____ _

The drive was filled with meaningless small talk, wholly inadequate for the situations at hand. Amy shared about her recent adventures at the dojo and her latest podcast topics, and Lucy smiled, relief flooding her at how little she'd changed during her time away. From there, she moved to drilling Wyatt with awkward “getting to know you” questions, which Lucy recognized for the interview they were. Lucy crossed her fingers that he passed Amy’s muster, because whether she approved or not, he’d be a permanent fixture in their lives.

_____ _

She sure hoped her sister approved.

_____ _

Wyatt's soft, even answers - “West Texas, ma'am,” and, “The Army? Since three days after my 18th birthday, so I guess going on 17 years now,” seemed to be met with approval. By the time she got to asking about his professional opinion of Lucy — “Lucy? Brilliant - I think she's far more special than she gives herself credit for, if I'm being perfectly honest,” Amy was grinning and eating out of the palm of his hand. If she wasn't so certain Amy had put together that their relationship was more than professional, she'd be worried that her sister was developing a bit of a crush. 

_____ _

The conversation trailed off and Lucy distracted herself by looking out the windows at the trees and charcoal sky, the infinite blackness being broken only by the twinkling of far too many stars. It had been insanely long since she'd seen the outside world in the present - since they went chasing after JFK, she guessed. The thought of voicing that aloud made her nearly snort in absurd amusement. What would Amy have to say about _that_? 

_____ _

“So where are we going, anyways,” Amy asked, breaking the silence.

_____ _

“The bunker,” Lucy replied. “Where we’ve been staying, um… our whole team. It's not fancy, pretty much the opposite in fact, but it's secure. And in light of everything, we’ll take secure.”

_____ _

Amy’s brow furrowed. “Lucy, you're a history professor. What the hell are you doing that you need a team, a bunker and… a bodyguard?”

_____ _

Lucy looked to Amy and frowned. “That's… a very long story.”

_____ _

The car pulled to a stop outside of the bunker and Wyatt threw it into park, but didn't cut the engine. His eyes met Lucy’s in the rearview and a ghost of concern washed across his face. “How much have you told her?”

_____ _

Lucy shook her head. “Just that I was worried that the people who kidnapped me might come after her. To pack what she needed because I couldn't promise when or if she'd be back.”

_____ _

“Which, by the way,” Amy interjected, looking between the two of them, “Is more than a little unnerving.”

_____ _

“Lucy.” He fixed his gaze on her, slightly disproving. “You can't walk her in there without explaining.” A beat and then, “ _They're_ in there.”

_____ _

Lucy let out a long sigh, ignoring Amy’s confused expression. She’d like to keep putting it off - both to preserve her sister’s opinion of her and for the slight remaining chance that she was Rittenhouse - but if she took Amy into that bunker unawares it would create far more drama than explaining now.

_____ _

“Yeah, I guess.” She looked across the back seat at her sister. “Amy - how long have you known me.” 

_____ _

Amy raised an eyebrow. “Twenty eight years now, I guess.”

_____ _

_They'd missed two birthdays together_.

_____ _

“Right. And in that time, you'd describe me as…”

_____ _

Amy grinned. “Uptight? Studious? Hard-working? Tightly wound. No-nonsense. Honest to a fault.”

_____ _

Lucy stared back, far less cheery. “This story is insane. _Insane_. I need you to remember that I am not insane, not prone to running off on flights of fancy, okay?”

_____ _

Amy nodded, a shade of concern crossing her face, as Lucy started the story. “Close to two years ago now, Homeland Security showed up at the house.”

_____ _

“I remember. Ever since, you've been super weird - just keep telling me it’s classified.”

_____ _

“Right. Well, that's how it was for you. That's not how it was for me.” She ignored Amy’s quizzical expression and continued. “The agent drug me to a place called Mason Industries—”

_____ _

Amy again raised an eyebrow. “Like Connor Mason?”

_____ _

“Exactly. When I got there, I was introduced to a whole team, Wyatt included. They—”

_____ _

“Wait, Wait,” Amy said, interrupting. “You've known Wyatt for _two years_ and I’m just now finding out about him?”

_____ _

Lucy frowned. “It's not like — 

_____ _

She gestured towards Wyatt, exasperated. “Two years, Lucy?

_____ _

Lucy closed her eyes, scrubbing her hand over her face. _Yep, still Amy_. “Listen, can I just finish the story?”

_____ _

“Fine,” Amy grumbled, and Lucy continued.

_____ _

“So when I got there, they explained to me there that apparently Mason had managed to build a time machine—” 

_____ _

Amy burst out laughing. “Look, Luce, you don't have to make up a crazy story. If you can't tell me what's going on, just say so.” She looked back and forth between Lucy and Wyatt, her mirth fading as she took in the stoic expression on both of their faces.

_____ _

“Amy, I _am_ telling you what's going on.”

_____ _

She looked shaken. “That's - that's crazy.”

_____ _

“I know - oh, I know. How do you think I felt when they told me? ‘That's impossible.’ Only it isn't. Classified, top-secret… but not impossible.”

_____ _

Amy squinted at her, clearly still skeptical. “Okay, let’s say for the sake of argument that this is a real thing. So all of these months that you were weird and distant and flighty - it's been because you and your secret friend Wyatt here have been _time-traveling_?”

_____ _

Lucy gave her a stilted nod. “Sort of. When I got to Mason that day I was told that the time machine had been hijacked by a terrorist. Wasn't quite what it appeared, but anyways - they had assembled a team to go apprehend this guy in order to preserve history. It sounds crazy, I know. But they needed a soldier to take this guy down, a pilot to get him there and back, and a historian to ensure that they stayed out of trouble and kept history on the right track.”

_____ _

Amy snorted, nodding towards Wyatt, somber now. “Let me guess, he's the soldier.”

_____ _

“Yeah.”

_____ _

“And so… you went?”

_____ _

Lucy nodded again. Amy’s disbelief seemed to be wavering. “First jump was to New Jersey, May 1937.”

_____ _

“The Hindenburg,” Amy muttered.

_____ _

Lucy smiled despite herself. “Good girl.” A pause and then, “What do you know of the Hindenburg?”

_____ _

“Blown up by the Anarchist Black Cross shortly after takeoff on the 7th. Thankfully few casualties. Few minutes later and it could have been so much worse.”

_____ _

Lucy nodded pensively. “Believe it or not, originally it blew up on the 6th - on landing. 36 people died.”

_____ _

Amy furrowed her brow. “So you're saying this terrorist…”

_____ _

“Changed history, yeah.” A deep breath and then, “Turns out, one of those 36 people, Irene, grew up and had a granddaughter. In the 1970s, she married a man named Henry Wallace.”

_____ _

Amy’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “Dad?”

_____ _

Nodding, Lucy continued. “I found out the hard way. When I got back from 1937 and went home, Mom was in the kitchen making dinner.”

_____ _

“She was - What? She wasn't sick?”

_____ _

“Right, not sick,” Lucy confirmed. “And you… Amy…” She paused, took a deep breath, and looked her sister straight in the eye, “You were gone.”

_____ _

“Gone how?”

_____ _

“You didn't exist any more.”

_____ _

Amy scoffed. “I’m sitting right here. Of course I exist.” 

_____ _

“You exist again after _years_ and a hell of a lot of jumps to put the right pieces in place. I haven't seen you since that first day I left, almost two years ago.

_____ _

Amy narrowed her eyes. “Luce, that doesn't make sense. _You_ still existed. How’s that?”

_____ _

Lucy chuckled - a wry, humorless chuckle. “Turns out Dad’s not my father.” 

_____ _

Amy’s eyes grew wide. “He's _what?”_

______ _ _

“That’s—” She shared a look with Wyatt - “the tip of a whole other iceberg.”

______ _ _

Amy held out her arm. “Pinch me.”

______ _ _

“What?”

______ _ _

“Or slap me, something. Because I'm pretty convinced I'm having a wicked dream.”

______ _ _

Lucy reached out and took her hand, sending her a sad smile. “It's not a dream, Amy. And there's so much — there's so much more.”

______ _ _

Wyatt spoke up. “You don’t have to tell her all of that right now. One problem at a time, right? What else does she need to know before we go inside?”

______ _ _

“Just about them, I guess.”

______ _ _

Amy furrowed her brow. “Who’s this _them_ you keep talking about?”

______ _ _

“It's, uh - it's us.”

______ _ _

“ _What?_ ”

______ _ _

“So… how do I even…” She glanced over at Wyatt, then started again. “A few missions ago, our pilot, Rufus, was killed. The three of us… we’ve probably jumped close to two dozen times now. I can't even tell you how close we’d gotten, Amy, how much we rely on each other.”

______ _ _

Amy shot a glance at Wyatt. “I can tell,” she mumbled, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

______ _ _

Lucy ignored her. “With you gone - Mom - everyone - they were basically the only family I had left. And so when Rufus died… we’d been fighting so long, so hard, it was starting to be hard to remember what we were fighting for.” She squeezed Amy’s hand, then continued. “Rufus’ death sucked the fight right out of all of us. They showed up to help us get him back, to make it right.”

______ _ _

“They…”

______ _ _

“Us. From the future.”

______ _ _

Amy’s eyes grew wide and she just started laughing. A deep, full laugh, bordering on hysteria, as if that were the straw that pushed the entire unbelievable tale too far. Lucy couldn't fault her, really; it _was_ positively insane. She looked to Wyatt, who shrugged, seeming to share her sentiment that they just needed to give her a minute to sort it all out. 

_______ _ _ _

The laughter continued for a minute or so, until Amy calmed enough to realize that the other two occupants of the car remained dead serious. Her eyes grew wide again, looking between Lucy and Wyatt. Finally she spoke. “Luce, I think you better have your soldier drive us over to UCSF, see about getting you an eval.”

_______ _ _ _

Lucy sent her a tight smile back. “How about this. Come on inside with us, see if our story checks out. If it doesn't, then I'll go get that eval. But I swear to you that as crazy as it sounds, I’m telling the truth.”

_______ _ _ _

Amy eyed her warily, but finally nodded. “Okay. We’ll go in, meet these future selves, see this time machine that stole me away and brought me back. But listen, if this all doesn't exist—”

_______ _ _ _

“I'll go with you, I swear it.”

_______ _ _ _

* * *

_______ _ _ _

The descent into the bunker was all sorts of terrifying. Halfway down, Lucy’s foot slipped a bit on one of the rungs, and though she caught herself - and felt Wyatt’s hand fly to her back as a backup - it crossed her mind that descending a wet, rusty ladder probably wasn't wise in her condition.

_______ _ _ _

_In her condition?_ She'd spent far too much time in the 1800s.

_______ _ _ _

And then there was Amy; she was mostly afraid she was gonna bolt, and there was a zero percent chance Lucy could catch her if she did. But, despite a hesitance halfway down, Amy kept climbing. Soon enough, Wyatt had hit the ground, he'd lifted her down the last couple of rungs, Amy had made it to the bottom, and the trio found themselves standing outside the bunker door.

_______ _ _ _

“You ready?” she said, turning to Amy, who only nodded. The look on her sister's face told her that Amy was starting to put a little more stock in Lucy’s crazy story - scared both of what she might and might _not_ find on the opposite side of the heavy metal door.

She looked at Wyatt and gave him a nod, and he pulled the bunker door open. As it scraped along the concrete towards them, Lucy watched Amy’s face - the one she’d fought so long and hard to see again - as her curiosity and astonishment grew. They stepped inside, and Lucy could hear the voices of the team drifting down from the common space. In front of them stood Denise, and Lucy could tell from her posture that her gun had been drawn until she got a glimpse of them - despite having texted from the parking lot that they were on their way down. Lucy was thankful that she'd holstered the weapon quickly enough to avoid scaring Amy. Nothing says ‘welcome to your new home’ like having a gun aimed at your face, after all.

“Amy, this is Agent Christopher,” Lucy started, watching as Christopher eyed Amy warily. 

Then she broke into a grin. “It's wonderful to finally meet you,” she said, extending a hand as if to shake before finally pulling Amy into a hug. “It's been a long time coming.”

________ _ _ _ _

“Uh, yeah,” Amy replied, looking slightly bewildered. “And you're who to Lucy?”

________ _ _ _ _

“Technically speaking, Department of Homeland Security. I've been overseeing this operation since its start nearly two years ago.” Her face and voice softened as she continued. “But at this point, I consider these two family.” A pause and then, “As much as I'd really love to get to know you, there are some others who shouldn't be kept waiting.”

________ _ _ _ _

Right. _Other_ her. She glanced over at Amy. “You ready for this?” 

________ _ _ _ _

Amy nodded, some of her surety melted away and replaced with apprehension. Lucy reached out and linked arms with her sister, guiding her around the corner where the rest of the bunker occupants sat - or stood - around the common area. 

________ _ _ _ _

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amy’s jaw hit the floor. “Luce, you're a twin,” she muttered, almost involuntarily.

________ _ _ _ _

“No, still just one of me. Amy… meet 2023 me.”

________ _ _ _ _

Future Lucy stood, looking reverently at her sister, before bursting into tears and launching herself into her arms. 

________ _ _ _ _

Amy reached up to rub her back, looking bewildered. Glancing at Lucy, she asked, “Future You is a basket case?”

________ _ _ _ _

Lucy shook her head. “She's tough as nails - hard to believe she's _me_. But two years without you was hard enough, and she's lived seven. You'll have to give her a minute.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“You don't need to coddle me,” Future Lucy said, her tearful voice muffled by Amy’s shoulder. Pulling back, she continued. “I just - I'd nearly lost hope that I'd ever see her again.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Future Lucy held Amy at arm’s length and studied her, one hand releasing her shoulder to finger her curls. “It's really you,” she said in disbelief. Then, looking at Future Wyatt, “We really did it.” 

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“We did,” he said, as he reached out over the back of the couch to squeeze her hand.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Future Lucy turned back to Amy. “Amy, this is Wyatt. Well, my Wyatt. He's my husband.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Eyeing Future Wyatt, Amy wrinkled her nose, then turned back to find his present-day counterpart behind her. Gesturing at her face, she shook her head. “No,” she said sternly. “Don't go there. The stubble’s a much better look.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Future Wyatt guffawed, jumping to his feet and pulling Amy into a bear hug. “It's been seven years, Amy Preston, and you did not disappoint.” Pulling back, he eyed her up and down. “Every word Lucy’s said about you is true.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“Glad I could live up to the hype,” she replied, squeezing him back. 

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“And this,” he said, pulling back from the hug and scooping Rosie onto his hip, nuzzling her face with his beard and eliciting a giggle out of the little girl. “Is Rosie. _She_ likes the beard.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Rosie wrinkled her nose. “It's tickly, Daddy.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Future Wyatt gaped. “I've just been betrayed by my own daughter.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Amy swung back to present-day Lucy & Wyatt, eyes wide. “You didn't say anything about a kid!”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“It's… complicated,” Lucy offered weakly, silently hoping that Amy would just roll with it and save her questions for later. 

_________ _ _ _ _ _

The response must have encouraged her to do just that - or the guilt-stricken expression on Wyatt’s face - as she turned back to the trio from the future. They'd passed Rosie between them and she now sat on Future Lucy’s hip, head on her shoulder as she studied Amy intently.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“You're Aunt Amy?” she asked, lifting her head to look at her mom. “Mommy, is it really, really Aunt Amy?”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“It really, really is,” Future Lucy replied, tears welling in her eyes once more.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“I guess that’s right,” Amy replied, still looking slightly gobsmacked. “Will you be patient with me? I’ve never been an aunt before.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Rosie nodded enthusiastically. “It's easy. You just hafta read to me and give me snuggles and tell me stuff’s okay when Mommy says no.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Amy laughed. “I think I can handle that.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Future Lucy put Rosie down in order to pull Amy into another hug, unable to keep more tears from escaping. “Shit, I'm sorry,” she said, pulling back and wiping her eyes. “I swear I'm usually less meltdown-prone!”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“It's true,” Future Wyatt replied. “Not that you know me well enough to take my word but — I can't even remember the last time she was like this. Maybe just after Rosie was born.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Future Lucy looked to him and nodded. “That's probably about right. After we decided to bring her home. And well - I was about as relieved then as I am right now. _Amy’s back_ \- we finally did it!”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Future Wyatt sent her a meaningful look as he walked over and skipped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I promised we would, Luce. I never doubted you'd get it figured out.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Watching the look she sent back his direction, Lucy felt as if she should look away - as if she were intruding on a private moment not meant to be shared with outsiders. But well - it was _herself_ , after all - and her future husband? Her future self’s husband? Who may or may not be her own future?

_________ _ _ _ _ _

She struggled to see him as anything but.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

The moment faded and the duo set to introducing Amy around the room. “You met Denise earlier - Agent Christopher, formally, but… as many years as we've had in this war, she's family.” 

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Amy nodded. “I appreciated the lack of a firearm in my face as I walked in here.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“I live to serve,” Denise called back with a smile, and laughter rang out among the group.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“And this is Rufus and Jiya,” she continued, gesturing to the couple perched together in the armchair. “Rufus is our pilot—”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“And fellow rescuee, I hear,” Amy interjected.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“Yeah, basically the same,” Rufus replied, nudging Jiya to get off his lap so that he could stand. “I came back from the dead, you returned to existence - close enough.” A pause, as he looked her over, and then, “I only knew your sister for one day before you disappeared. You’ve been her motivation ever since. I really hope you're a hugger like she is, because you can't possibly know how damn glad I am to meet you.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“I’m getting the idea,” Amy replied, stepping forward and letting Rufus pull her into a bear hug. “And no one could possibly be as good a hugger as my sister. That girl will knock you down if you don't see her coming.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“I can vouch for that,” said Wyatt, causing gentle laughter from the group.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Releasing Amy, Rufus turned to tug Jiya forward. “This is Jiya. She’s the brains of this operation.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“I resent that remark,” Mason called out, stepping over from the kitchen, hand extended. “Connor Mason. Formerly of Mason Industries, current technical advisor to this lot.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“What he means,” Denise called out, her smile making it clear that she was ribbing him, “Is that the tables have turned, and now he takes orders from Rufus and Jiya.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“A load of rubbish,” Mason grumbled, but his smile betrayed any true anger. He reached for Amy’s hand, giving it a firm shake before covering them both with his other one. “It’s an honor to finally meet the famed Amy. Almost feels like our tale has come full circle.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“Sure - except the part where we’re still stuck in an underground government bunker and under the constant threat of having history decimated by a secret shadow organization,” Rufus said, shrugging offhandedly and earning himself a thwack on the shoulder from Jiya.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Amy’s brow furrowed as she glanced around, searching for her sister - either version. “I thought it was just one guy?” she asked, finding Lucy’s behind her. “There's a whole group?”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Lucy nodded stiffly. “Yeah. It's — a very long story.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“I'm here for it,” Amy replied. “You drug me down here, you wanna fill me in?”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“I think she deserves the whole thing,” Wyatt offered, and a quiet murmur of agreement went through the crowd. 

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Lucy nodded. “Agreed.” She gestured to Amy to follow her, heading to the bedroom she'd recently adopted. “C’mon Ames, let's chat - we’ve got a lot to catch her up on.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
